Taking Chances
by Red Nevada Rose
Summary: Addie "Ace" Bunker is stubborn, witty, and starting a new life for herself. But living on the streets of New York isn't so easy for a seventeen-year-old girl- especially with the Newsies around every corner. With the help of a certain newsboy, Addie overcomes her past and learns how to live on her own terms. Racetrack/OC. Post-strike. Rating just in case. Bad summary, give it a try
1. Chapter 1

"And stay out!" Oscar Delancey shouts as I am shoved outside and to the ground. His brother, Morris, is right behind him, "You ain't nothing but a worthless girl who won't amount to nothing." And with that, I was fired from the Delancey household.  
I wrap my arms around me, trying to keep warm. It was late August, but the nighttime showed signs of fall. I sit on the Delancey's front steps, thinking of places where I could at least spend the night.  
_Well there ain't no use staying here_, I think. _Might as well start walkin_'. I make my way along the dark streets and alleys of Manhattan. I have no money and none of my possessions. _Guess I'll have to sneak back later_.

I walk towards a two-story brick building where eruptions of cheers and yells are coming through the windows. The door opens and I can see two boys wrestling within a larger crowd of boys. Ignoring them- and hoping they would ignore me- I pull my sweater closer around my shoulders and hurry past. Just as I am passing, one of the boys- the loser- went tumbling down the steps and ultimately knocks me over.  
"Oi! Watch where yer-" says the boy as he lifts himself off of me, but stopping mid-sentence when he sees me. He removes his hat, as do many of the other boys in the doorway. "Dear me, miss. Sorry 'bout dat. Me friend and me was just-"  
"It's fine," I stop him and stand up. "Better luck to you next time." I start walking away, only to have my arm caught. I turn and see it was the boy.

"What youse doin' all alone at this time of night?" I glance over him. He has a tall and lean stature, with muscular arms. Shaggy, dirty blond hair fell over an attractive face with blue-gray eyes and an unlit cigar is hanging from his mouth. His brow knits in worry and I can tell he's genuinely concerned. But then I remember the last time I thought someone was genuinely concerned.  
"Just walkin'." I jerk my arm away, "Look buddy, I ain't interested in anything you or your buddies want. I've had quite the rough night and I just need to find someplace to sleep. Excuse me." I turn on my heel and briskly walk away. Looking once over my shoulder, I se the boy has returned to his friends and now discusses something with another boy, both watching me.

Halfway down the block, I hear the pounding of running feet. I know without a doubt that it was the boy again. I turn to face him so quickly that he doesn't have time to stop, causing him to run into me once again.  
"We can't keep meeting like this," I tell him after allowing him to help me off the ground.  
He ignores my comment and simply states, "Ya need a place to sleep."  
I raise an eyebrow, "Why do you care?"  
"Look, miss, yer a very pretty goil, excuse me forwardness, and I ain't gonna let a pretty goil walk away when she and I both know dat she ain't got no place ta sleep tonight. So either ya come back wit me, or I throw ya over my shoulder and ya come back wit me. Da choice is yers." He smirks and holds his arms out to the sides, as if to put the choices in perspective.  
I cross my arms, not giving in, "You swear there won't be any funny business? From you or your buddies?"  
He draws an X over his chest, "Cross my heart and hope to die. I'll even let you sleep in my bunk."  
I raise an eyebrow, "And where will you be?"  
He waves my question off like a fly, "On da floor. Or I'll kick one of the younger boys outta his bunk."  
After a moment's consideration, I give in. _You'll be gone in the morning and won't ever see him again_. "One more question."  
"And then you come inside?"  
"And then I come inside. What's your name?"  
He grins, "Dey call me Racetrack. Or Race. Whicheva one suits ya."  
"Well Race," I hold out my hand, "Addie Bunker."

He shakes my hand and turns us in the direction of the building, where several of the boys from before are watching us. I observe the boys; most of them looked to be young, with only a handful that seemed to be my age- seventeen- and they're all covered in dirt, "Is this an orphanage or something?"  
"Nah. But most of us is orphans. We da newsies of Manhattan," he states proudly.  
"Newsies? Like the ones who ran that strike earlier this summer?" I ask as we walked up the steps.  
Another boy interjects, answering my question, "You bet we is, ma'am. Every morning- rain, sun, or snow- we carry the banner." He takes off the cowboy hat on his head as he introduces himself, "Da name's Jack Kelly."  
I shake his hand, "Jack Kelly. I've heard of you."  
He raises an eyebrow, "Is dat so? And who might have you hoid my name from?"  
"Just during the strike. I'd read the articles 'bout you guys in The Sun. That is, until my boss would take 'em from me."  
Jack looks smug, "Who's your boss?"  
"The Delancey's. You know 'em?"  
Jack, along with many other boys, tenses, "Yeah, I know 'em. What was you doin wit da Delancey's?"  
I put my hands on my hips, "Like I said, they were my bosses. Got fired from 'em this evening. The reason ain't none of your business."  
Jack considers this for a second, finally nodding, "I'll take it." He looks at Race, "You up for anudda round?"  
Race rubs the back of his head, "Afta that pounding you gave me? I think I'm good for a while."  
Jack shrugs and turns to the other boys, "Alright, boys. Who's money am I stealing tonight?" They all whoop and cheer as they head back inside, leaving Race and I in the back.

"What happened before?" I ask as we follow the pack into what looked like a recreation room.  
"What, me and Jack? Oh nothing, just playin' some poker. I won, he accused me of cheatin' and you know da rest."  
I look around the room; a dartboard hung against a wall that clearly had its fair share of darts, a makeshift pool table was in the middle of room, and a table covered in cards was set in one corner. The boys all crowd around the card table, with Jack at the head and two others in the chairs next to him, leaving one seat open.

"Okay, now which one of youse is I gonna hafta force to play?" Jack makes eye contact with each individual. "No one's volunteering?"  
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "I'll play." They all looks at me, mouths open in surprise.  
Jack raises an eyebrow, "You knows how?"  
I take a seat, grinning slyly, "I've seen Oscar and Morris play it enough, I think I've picked it up."  
"Well let's hope for youse sake you play better than da Delancey's. What ya got to bet?"  
I pull the barrette that had been holding my hair up, letting my wavy blonde locks to fall down my back. "How's this?"  
Jack examines the barrette. It featured five pearls set in silver. "Is dis real?"  
"As real as the Delancey's stink."  
Jack smiles and puts the barrette down, "Yer in. And keep da Delancey insults comin'."

A half hour later, once Jack and the other two boys put all of their earnings in the pot, we're ready to reveal our hands.  
"Mush, you first." Jack tells one of the boys.  
Mush sets down his cards. Jack observes the hand, "Straight. Well done, Mush. Kid Blink?"  
Kid Blink does the same as Mush and Jack continues, "Full house. Not bad, not bad at all."  
Jack looks at me, "Since youse our lovely guest, I'll go first." The boys standing around lean forward as he sets his cards down and smiles victoriously, "Straight flush."

I feign disappointment and put my cards on the table, "Royal flush." Jack's eyes bulged out of his head and I hear boys laughing and gasping at this unexpected turn.  
Race pats my shoulder, "I knew you was a good one." I blush at his words, hoping no one would notice.  
Jack's shaking his head and Race bends down to whisper in my ear, "Looks like youse is gonna fit right in, Ace."

* * *

**A/N: Hello! I hope you like the first chapter of my first _Newsie_ fic. I'm not sure where I want to go with it for now, but I'll take whatever opinions you guys give me in your reviews. There are links to what Addie and Race look like in my profile. I'm basing Race off of the actor Ryan Breslin, who plays him in the Broadway musical, Newsies. Anyways, I really hope you like what I have so far. I haven't written anything in a really long time, so I hope I can brush off the dust and pick it back up again! Just an FYI, it may take me forever to update here and then. There's a long explanation about it in my profile. But if you liked it, please, please review- I accept anonymous reviews, too!**

**Also, the title may change. I'm not sure if I like it. So if you want to continue reading this, I suggest you put it under an alert or a favorite instead of just searching for the title, only to find nothing. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I'm awake before the sun, laying in an unfamiliar bed with boys sleeping all around me. I almost laugh, _What would Mother think?_ I squeeze my eyes closed, _She wouldn't think anything. She doesn't think anything of me_. A shot of pain hits my chest and I sit up, knowing I have to leave and find a new job. I swing my legs over the side of the bed to start lacing up my boots. A tap on the top of my head causes me to look up. Race is looking down at me, his eyes full of sleep.  
"Youse leaving' us already, Ace?" he asks, stifling a yawn. The boys had given me that nickname after my unexpected win last night.  
I shrug, "There ain't much reason to stay around."  
His face falls a bit, "Yeah, I guess so."  
I finish with my boots and stand up, leveling his eyes with mine, smiling, "I just gotta get a job. Then once I make some money, maybe I'll come back and show you boys how to play poker again."  
He grins, "Yeah, we'll see 'bout dat."  
A pillow from the neighboring bunk flies past us. "Will you two keep it down? I needs my beauty sleep," Jack moans.

I roll my eyes and Race hops off his bunk. He gestures towards the stairs and I follow him outside the building. Race pulls an unlit cigar from his pocket and stick it in his mouth. He catches me staring at it and holds it out to me, "You smoke?"  
I shake my head, "It does terrible things to your body."  
He smirk, "Da woild does terrible things to my body."  
I scoff, "You can say that again." He looks over at me and I can tell he is wondering why I had been fired. I quickly change the subject, "So why do they call ya 'Race'?"  
"Dats where I sell my papes. Sheepshead. Then I toin around and bet it all on a horse. See if I can make a lucky break."  
"You ever do?" He shakes his head and I laugh. After a quiet moment, I turn to him, "I want to thank you again for letting me stay here."  
He shrugs, "Like I said before, youse a pretty goil and I wasn't 'bout ta let youse walk away."  
I hide my blush by digging into the pocket of my dress. I pull out some of the money I won last night and hand it to him. He shakes his head and hands it back to me, "You won dat fair and square. I ain't takin' your money."  
I press it back into his hands, "It ain't my money. It's Jack's."  
Race considers this for a moment, finally accepting, "Since you put it dat way." I grin and he smiles back. A window from above opens and catcalls can be heard from inside. I roll my eyes and Race grins wider, "Don't worry, I'll soak 'em when I git inside."  
"Good," I laugh, "I'll get going then." I start for the sidewalk.  
"Wait," I hear quietly behind me. I turn and Race is watching me. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it, then opens it again, "I'll see youse around?"  
I smile and give a single nod, "Only if the headlines are good."  
He smiles back and I can feel him watching me as I continue to walk down the street until finally turning a corner.

* * *

*Race's POV*

I wait a few minutes after Ace has turned the corner to go back inside. Catcalls and wolf whistles are thrown at me, but I ignore them and head to the sinks to shave. Crutchie and Jack are awake; they both grin when they see me.  
"Where's your goil?" Crutchie asks.  
"She ain't my goil," I reply, applying shaving cream.  
"Well what happened to her?"  
I shrug, "She's gone."  
"Simple as dat?"  
"Simple as dat." I shave what little stubble I have on my chin; from the corner of my eye, I see them exchange a glance, and I know they know it isn't that simple. But I had to act like it was, or else the boys would never let it go.  
Jack slaps me on the shoulder, "Well den, we best git goin'. Papes ain't gonna sell demselves."

We make our way to the circulation desk, everyone joking about what the headlines will be and the occasional insult is thrown out, which results in Jack having to break up a fight before it even starts. Just another day. _It ain't just another day, there was a girl in your bed this morning_, I smile.  
Crutchie catches my smile and he smirks, "Someone's got it bad."  
"I ain't got nothin'," I defend. "Ay, Cowboy, we goin' ta Jacobi's today?"  
Jack scans the headline board as we approach the desk, "Only if da headlines is good."

Everyone buys their papers and heads towards their selling spots, some pairing up with each other. I hop on the back of a trolley and ride it to the racetrack, my racetrack. It's a long way to go to sell papers, I know that. But I also know that no one else takes the long trip when there are other good spots closer to Manhattan. That way, I'm the only one selling papers- no competition, more money. I unfold a paper and read the headlines, scanning for a good one- or one that could easily turn into a sale. Right on the front page, there's one that could interest the people around the track: "EXPIRED OATS CAUSE FAN-FAVORITE TO LOSE." I quickly scan through the article; the popular and fastest horse had eaten bad oats and lost a race after getting sick. I nod my head, _This will work_.  
The false headline comes to me almost instantly. "NEW YORK'S FASTEST HORSE STUMBLES, LAME FOOT," I yell at the top of my lungs while holding up the paper, fingers covering the actual headline. Almost instantly, heads turn at the news and people shout for a paper. I smile, _Today's gonna be easy_.

A few hours later, I sell my papers and, with the profit of today jingling in my pocket, make my way back to Manhattan by trolley. I smile when I remember the extra Ace had given me this morning. Ace. Her blond hair. Her green eyes. Her spitfire attitude. _You really let her go. It'll be a miracle if you ever see her again_. I shake my head and hop off the trolley as Jacobi's deli comes into view. Walking in, I see the Newsies at the usual table, Jack at the head as always, a smug grin on his face.  
"What's got youse lookin' so dopey, eh? Jacobi's granddaughta showed you her petticoats again?" I say, grabbing a chair and sitting down.  
Jack shakes his head, "Nah, I ain't da lucky one today. Youse is."  
I raise an eyebrow, "Is dat so?"  
"Toin around, lover boy." I do as he says and am genuinely surprised at what I see.

By the counter, Ace is speaking to Mr. Jacobi. Both are smiling as he instructs her on something I can't hear. I turn back to the table and Jack is smirking, "Didn't I say you was da lucky one?" Some of the guys snicker. I look back at Ace and Jacobi. Ace glances over and does a double-take before smiling when she recognizes us. Jacobi notices this and walks over, Ace in tow.  
"Fellas, I'd like to introduce you to the newest Jacobi's deli employee," Jacobi pats Ace on the back and stretches out his other hand to present her.  
"We've met," Ace states simply, smiling at me. _Smiling at me_.  
Jacobi looks between the two of us and looks at Jack, confused. Jack just winks and Jacobi takes the hint, "Well I'm heading back to the kitchen. I'll see you in the morning, Addie."  
"Call me 'Ace', Mr. Jacobi," she corrects him, "I like it more than my real name."  
Jacobi nods, "Ace it is, then." He smiles and walks away.

Ace turns back to the table, "Fancy seein' you boys here." She smiles at me again. _Smile back, you bozo!_ I manage some kind of grimace, to which she stifles a laugh.  
Jack covers me and replies to her comment, "We comes 'ere often."  
"Well then I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you." Ace looked back at me, "How'd the headlines go this morning?"  
I finally untangle my tongue and grin, "Sold every last one of 'em."  
Ace seems impressed, "Look at you." She glances at the clock that hung over the door, "I need to get going." My face falls and I can tell she notices, "But I'll see you around?" She looks around at all the Newsies and returning to me. I nod and Ace smiled, turning towards the door.  
Jack calls after her, "Hey, Ace!" Ace turns, eyebrow raised. "When's da next time we can play poker?"  
She smirks, "As soon as you learn how to play." The guys all whoop at her response. Ace glances at me one last time, smiles, and walks out the door.

* * *

*Ace's POV*

It had been a successful day. I awoke safe and sound, albeit in an unfamiliar bed surrounded by boys. But it was better than sleeping somewhere in the streets, where who knows what could have happened. I was able to buy a meal with my poker winnings. And I now had a job, starting tomorrow. I smiled, _You're doing just fine on your own, Addie Bunker_.  
I spend the day walking the streets of Manhattan. The sun begins to set as I weave the different paths of Central Park. The park buzzes with activity- families with picnic dinners, children play in the fountain, and young couples happily stroll along. As I sit down on a bench, I watch one family in particular. The mother and father seem happily married with two children, a daughter and son. The daughter looks to be my age, while the son is a few years younger. All are well-dressed, obviously coming from a higher class than the people around them.

_Just like you_, I think. I shake my head, _No. Not just like me. I'm different now_. I continue to watch, and eventually a tall, just-as-wealthy man approaches the family and takes the daughter's arm. _Her fiancé_. I almost laugh, _You don't know what you're getting yourself into, hun_. The girl glances over at me and our eyes meet. I valiantly raise my chin, boasting my independence. Her eyebrows knit together, but her attention is turned back to her fiancé. I think of how she must see me- sitting on a bench, alone, looking like a mess with a tattered dress and unruly hair; pathetic. _Ha, at least I have my own life_. To prove my point, I stand and walk past them, head high, shoulders back. The fiancé catches my eye and tips his hat. I nod back politely and continue past them.

The sun has set and its rays paint the sky with brilliant shades of orange, pink, and purple. I realize now that I don't have a place to spend the night. A quick memory of the night before gives me incentive to find the Newsies, but I shake my head. _That was a one-night deal. You don't need a bunch of boys thinking you're dependent on them_. I walk on, confident to find a vacant inn.

A street vendor is polishing up his wagon on a street corner. A pang of hunger hits my stomach and I examine his stock, "You got anything left?"  
The man smiles; one tooth sticks out from his bottom gum, "A'course I do. What catches yer eye?"  
I look over his cart. Various fruits, nuts, and chocolates are lined up in their respective paper bags, all labeled for five cents. "I'll take the last bag of pistachios."  
"Thank you, miss," he says as I pay him. I turn to walk away. "Ay, miss?"  
I turn back to him, "Yes?"  
He looks up and down the empty street and looks back at me, "I'd get inside if I was youse. Dese streets is dangerous."  
I muster up a convinced smile and nod, "Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to do that."

Irving Hall comes into view as I continue down the street. I only know it from the pictures I had seen in the newspapers during the newsboy strike. The billboard lights are flashing in the dark and I know a show is going on inside. As I get closer, I can read the billboard: "MEDDA LARKIN- PERFORMING TONIGHT." I remember what the papers said about Medda, "a curvaceous, leggy red-head with a beautiful voice, who gave the Newsies a maternal hope in their fight." I could imagine how appealing she would be, considering that most of the boys- if not all- had no clue what a mother was like.  
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I put my ear up to the front door. I can barely hear Medda's voice, but what little I do hear, she is lovely. I opt for sitting on the ground and eating my pistachios while listening. I smile to myself, I could stay here all night.  
I spend the next good hour sitting there, listening to the show. A surge of longing grows in my chest; I had always dreamed of performing. I let the music and applause surround me, closing my eyes. I smile to myself and forget everything around me while I sit there.  
The show ends and I can hear the final applause as the crowd begins to exit. I stand up and move out of the crowd's way. I decide it's best to put my procrastination aside and find someplace to sleep. It is getting late and if I wait any longer, every place would be closed. I follow the crowd a few blocks, before it dissipates and everyone heads for their respective homes. I find myself alone again. Continuing my walk, I keep an eye out for a sign of a room for rent.

"What's a lady doing out here, alone, at this time of night?"  
I pause for a second, but continue walking. _Just ignore him_. I could recognize that voice anywhere. And if there was one, there would definitely be the other.  
Another voice. "I don't think she heard you, Oscar. Better speak up."  
The Delancey's.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, I hope you like it! Please, don't forget to review. It really doesn't take that much effort and I appreciate every comment or thought you have!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about the lack of chapters these past few days. School started Wednesday and yesterday there were really bad storms, so I had to unplug my computer because I didn't want some crazy lightning bolt hitting the power. But here's the next one! Hope you like it. :)**

**P.S. I think I should add that the Jacobi's deli is also Tibby's restaurant. In the Broadway _Newsies_, it's Jacobi's instead of Tibby's like it is in the movie. Frankly, the name Jacobi is funny to me, so that's why I included it in here. And I hope I'm writing their New York accent correctly. Well maybe not correctly, but I hope you guys can understand it. :)**

**P.P.S. I changed my pen name. It is now Red Nevada Rose, instead of oxkatizzlexo. I was just tired of the old one that I had made in middle school. Not sure if that changes anything, but just letting you know!**

* * *

*Ace's POV*

"Hey sweetheart, I'm talking to you," Oscar calls after me. I keep walking, only to have him step in front of me and block my path. I roll my eyes and take a step back, determined to walk around. Morris is behind me, blocking any means of escape. Oscar observes my face, and I can tell he recognizes me instantly, "Hey Mo, ain't this the kitten we tossed out yesterday?"  
Morris grabs my arm and turns me around. I lock my eyes with him, raising my chin and praying that neither of them can hear my heartbeat. Morris sneers, "Abby, was it?"  
"Let go of me," I speak through my teeth. Morris' grip on my arm tightens as I try to pull away.  
Oscar clicks his tongue, "Now that's not how a lady should reply when spoken to." He grabs my chin and pulls my face towards his, "Such a pretty face." His voice is low and soft and his breath is hot on my face, smelling like alcohol and tobacco.  
I pull away, releasing myself from both their grips. I step back, "Touch me again and I go to the police."  
Morris smirks, "What's gonna happen then? You snitch on us?"  
"They won't believe you," Oscar continues, "They didn't believe you before." He lurches for me. Instinctively, I pull back my right arm and aim my fist for his head. I remember the way my father taught me, _D__on't stop at the target, go through it_. Fist meets face; I hear a _crack!_ and Oscar cries out. I open one eye and see him holding his nose in pain, hunched over. I don't have time to celebrate my punch because Morris is coming right for me. He catches me off guard and tackles me to the ground.  
I struggle underneath his weight, but he's too heavy for me. A immense pain explodes in my left eye, and I realize Morris has hit me. He spits in my face, "C'mon, girly, let us finish what we started."  
"Not this time," I knee him in the groin. He winces and I shove him off of me. I stand up and catch my breath. Both men are on the ground, wincing in pain, yelling at the other to go after me. My hand reaches up to feel my eye, _That'll hurt in the morning_. I wipe Morris' saliva off my cheek and step back a few paces, turning into an alley.

_Run_.

* * *

*Race's POV*

"Oh boy, Medda shoa looked pretty tonight, didn't she?" Jack asks me as we walk back to the Lodging House. Jack had convinced me to see Medda's show with him tonight. I agreed only because I couldn't afford to lose another card game and because Medda offered us free seats in the balcony.  
I nod absentmindedly, lighting a cigarette, "She looked like a showgoil, Jackie."  
Jack looks at me, "And how many showgoils have _you_ seen, eh?" When I don't answer, he smirks, "Just what I thought." He grabs my smoke and inhales.  
"Hey!" I yell at him, grabbing it back.  
He gives me a look and exhales smoke in my face, "What's got youse so uppity?" He stands in front of me, fists up, ready to fight.  
"I ain't uppity," I snap back, dodging the punch he throws towards me.  
"Yeah, whatever youse says," Jack smirks and falls back into step beside me, "It's dat goil, ain't it?"  
"I told ya," I pause to take a puff of my cigarette, "Medda was pretty."  
"I ain't talkin' 'bout Medda, Race. Now stop avoidin' da question. What was dat name ya gave her?"  
"Ace," I say matter-of-factly, exhaling the smoke.  
Jack nods, "Yeah, her. Youse is shoa wrapped up in her, ain't ya?"  
"I hardly know her, Jack. She probably don't even like me."  
"You kiddin'?" He gives me a look, "She couldn't stop starin' at youse in Jacobi's." When I don't say anything, he smirks, "But I guess youse is right, who'd like ya anyways?" I narrow my eyes and take a swing at him. He dodges it smoothly and laughs, "Der's the old Racetrack."

I take the opportunity to change the conversation away from me, "And what about yer goil, eh? You seen Sarah in a while?"  
Jack shakes his head, "Her father is still hurt, can't go back ta the factory 'til his arm gets betta. So she's hangin' 'round home more."  
"Don'tcha go ova der for supper?"  
"Used to. Not so much no more," he shrugs, "It's weird, ya know? Dey's a family. Davey, Les, Sarah, and their folks. I ain't used ta family, ya know?"  
I nod noncommittally, "Yeah, I knows." We walk in silence for the next few minutes, the occasional pebble skidding across the pavement, my cigarette glowing in the darkness with every inhale.

We stop when we hear footsteps around an upcoming corner. The footsteps are running, and heavy breathing accompanies the sound. I look at Jack; he's tensed and ready for a fight. I smother my cigarette on the ground- it would be no use in a fight. The runner quickly turns the corner, looking over their shoulder, blind to Jack and me. The runner slams into me, "_Oomph!_" and we both go down. The stranger looks down at me, with brilliant green eyes that hold a mixed expression of confusion, recognition, and relief. Blond hair falls down over us, the ends of it tickling my face. The stranger smiles, "Race?"  
I laugh, "We can't keep meetin' like dis, Ace." Jack helps her off of me and I stand up, brushing myself off. Ace is breathing heavy and continuously looks over her shoulder. My brow furrows, "Youse okay?"  
She shakes her head, "Do I look okay?"  
"Don't answer that question," Jack warns me. He turns to Ace, "Someone afta ya?"  
Ace nods, "Delancey's." Both Jack and I tense up, looking towards the direction she came. Ace touches one of her eyes, "Oh God, it's swollen shut."  
I reach for her, "They hit ya?" I examine her eye, "It's purple already."  
She shrugs it off, "Don't worry. I've had worse."  
Jack walks to the corner, looking up and down the street, "It's clear." He returns to Ace and me, "You 'em hit back?"  
"Got Oscar with my right hook. Pretty sure his nose is broken," Ace smiles triumphantly, "And I don't think Morris can have kids with that kick I gave him."  
Jack laughs, patting her on the back, "Good, good."  
I take in her appearance. Her clothes are tattered and her hair is a mess. She looks exhausted. I look at Jack; he reads my mind and nods. I turn back to Ace, "Ya got a place ta stay tonight?"  
She shakes her head, "I got nowhere. I got nothing."  
I smile, "Stay wit us."  
"I can't keep dependin' on ya for a bed," she protests.  
Jack waves it off, "Ah, youse gave da Delancey's their rightful beatin'. I think you'll fit right in." He looks back at the street once again, "I'm gonna check ta make shoa they ain't comin' for ya. See youse later," Jack subtly winks at me and heads off around the corner.  
Ace looks at me, "I hope you know the way back. I'm lost."  
I offer my elbow, something I've seen the rich folk in the park do with their ladies. She grins and links her arm through mine. The way back to the Lodging House is short, and we make small talk as we go.

"Dey shouldn't have touched youse, ya know," I tell her quietly as we reach the brick building.  
Ace looks startled, "What?"  
I gesture to her eye, "It wasn't right for 'em ta hit youse."  
It clicks in her mind, but I can tell there is something bothering her. "Oh right," she shrugs it off, "Like I said, I've had worse before. 'Sides," she smirks, "I think I gave it back to 'em pretty good."  
I smile, "I'm shoa youse did." After a moment, I frown, "What was dey afta youse for anyway?"  
She looks down, "They just recognized me..."  
"And dey soak ya?"  
"They were still upset about the other night. When I got fired," the tone she uses tells me that she doesn't want to talk about it anymore.  
"Still, hittin' a lady. Touchin' her. It ain't right," I mutter under my breath.  
Ace hears my words and looks directly at me, "You mean it?"  
I nod, matching her gaze for a few seconds, "Every word." We stand like that for a minute or so, until Ace breaks out into a small smile. She hugs me, her arms winding around my torso and her face buries in my shoulder.  
It takes me a moment to respond, but I slowly follow her lead and wrap my arms around her back. I can barely make out her words, but she whispers, "Thank you."  
After a while, I pull away, my hands on her shoulders, "C'mon, let's go inside."

* * *

**Reviews for cutesy fluffiness? Pretty please? :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I would just like to put in here a disclaimer. I realized I haven't done that yet, and I don't know what punishments may come out of not having a disclaimer, but I don't want to find out. I do not own Newsies. And if I did, they'd all be my husbands. I'm not writing this for money (who would pay for this?). I'm simply doing it out of fun and enjoyment.**

* * *

*Ace's POV*

_Two weeks later_

The rustle of waking boys surrounds me. I bury my head further into the pillow, refusing to admit it was morning. I hear a _thump_ on the ground next to my bunk, and I know Race is awake. There's a shift of weight as he sits on the thin mattress, lacing up his shoes.  
"C'mon, Ace. Time ta get up."  
"No," I say into the pillow.  
"Even Jack's up," he shakes my shoulder and attempts to roll me over, "Get up."  
"I'm going to kill you," I threaten, covering my face with my arms.  
He laughs, "I'd like ta see ya try. Now c'mon. Papes ain't gonna sell demselves."  
"I don't even sell papes, Racetrack." I peek through my fingers, taking note that he isn't wearing a shirt, "I just tag along because I got nothin' better to do."  
Race smiles, "And ya love every minute of it." He turns away, knowing I'll get up in my own time.

I had been here for two weeks and already felt like I was part of the family. On my third day here, Race and I found a set of clothes that someone grew out of. My dress was filthy and torn, so I was eager for a change. The brown pants took a while to get used to, but now I was just as comfortable in them as I would be in a dress, maybe even more. A pair of maroon suspenders held the pants up, over an off-white button-up shirt and gingham vest. We even found a green cap for me to wear. If it hadn't been for my long hair and figure, you couldn't even tell I was a girl. I grab the clothes sitting neatly in a pile next to my bed and head for a makeshift curtain in the corner of the room. I smile, remembering the compromise I made with the boys: if I had a private dressing area, I wouldn't steal their money in another poker game.

I finish dressing and step out from behind the curtain and look around the room. Rows of bunk beds occupy the majority of the space, while the back wall has sinks, mirrors, and a water pump. Around the corner, toilet stalls are already stinking up the room. Early sunlight filters in through the grimy windows. The newsboys do their various morning routines, pulling on shirts, washing up, bragging about whatever girl they took out the night before. I look from boy to boy, listing them off and trying to remember their names. _Jack, Crutchy, Mush, Specs, Kid Blink, Race..._ My eyes fall on Race, who is searching around our bunk bed, still shirtless, "Alright, who took my cigar?" I roll my eyes and sit on the bed, lacing my shoes. Race crawls underneath the bed frame and peeks his head out between my feet, "Seen my cigar anywhere?"  
I shove his head back under the bed, "Put a cork in it, Race. You'll steal another one anyways. Now put a shirt on."  
"Youse ain't my mother," he stands up and winks, "Does it bother ya?"  
I ignore his question, knowing he'll come up with a smart answer to whatever I reply with. Race and I became fast friends within the short time I've been here. Sure, I was friends with the other boys, but Race usually sticks closest to me.

There's an open sink and mirror on the other side of the room, so I hurry over and claim it before someone else can. After washing my face and securing my hair up with my barrette, I examine the eye that Morris had hit a few weeks ago. There is still some yellow pigment underneath my bottom lashes, but the purple bruising has gone away completely. I lightly trace over the yellow tint with my finger, hoping all evidence of the punch will disappear within the next few days.  
Specs is at the sink next to me and he notices my observations of my eye, "Don't worry, youse can see."  
"It ain't the seein' I'm worried about. It's-" I stop when I notice him wiping off his glasses on his shirt, "Right. Sorry."  
He waves it off, "I wasn't implyin' dat. But I'll take da sympathy." He winks and looks over his lenses. Multiple smudges can be seen and he tries again.  
"Here," I say, holding out my hand, "My shirt's cleaner." Specs hands me the glasses and I wipe them off on my shirt. Once they're clean, I place them on my face, "How do I look?"  
Specs smirks, "Stupid."  
I laugh and punch his arm, "Shut up." I hand Specs his glasses back and he slips them on. I smile, "They work better for you."  
I notice Race watching us from across the room. Specs follows my gaze and looks sheepish, "I'll see youse later, Ace."  
"Good luck with your papes today," I leave Specs and head back to the bunk, where Race is standing. "What's got you up in a knot?"  
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it again, "I ain't find my cigar yet."  
"Betcha today's pay Jack's got it," I wink, grabbing my hat off my bed and tucking my hair inside it. He laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders as we follow the other newsboys out of the Lodging House.

Jack did, in fact, have Race's cigar. The two get in a tussle as everyone heads for _The World_ office. Race snatches the cigar out of Jack's hand from behind, running ahead of him before Jack can make sense of it. Jack chases after Race and the cigar bounces from hand to hand. I laugh as I watch them duke it out. The newsboys around me are either watching Jack and Race or creating their own wrestling matches. I slowly head for the edge of the crowd, watching out for any running, flipping, or fighting boys. Crutchy's a tad behind, hobbling to keep up with the group. I wait for him to catch up.  
"Morning, Miss Ace," Crutchy smiles.  
I smile back; it's impossible not to smile when you're with Crutchy. "I thought I told you not to call me miss."  
He shrugs the arm that's not hanging onto his crutch, "Youse is a lady. Youse is a miss ta me."  
I look back at the crowd of newboys, far ahead of us now, "Is it hard keeping up with them?"  
Crutchy waves it off, "I've been doin' dis my whole life. They knows I'm okay." I think back to when he was sent to the Refuge for being left behind during the strike, but I keep my mouth shut. Crutchy grins, "So how's Race?"  
I raise my eyebrow, "What do you mean?"  
"You know..." he winks.  
I open my mouth to speak but a commotion from ahead interrupts.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, it's short. But that's really all I have time for/can think of at the moment. But I hope you like it!**

**P.S. If anyone can think of some kind of conflict/event for me to do, I would greatly appreciate it. I have lots of stuff planned for this, but it's mainly drabble/stuff that's over within the chapter. And I want a good plot! So send me a PM or include it in your review. :) Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm alive! So sorry about the past week of nothing! I'm not sure what came over me, I just had no ambition to do anything. But I'm forcing myself to write, otherwise history will repeat itself and this would continue to be without update for a loooong time. And I'm not about to let that happen. So I'm back. :)**

* * *

Chapter 5

*Ace's POV*

Jack is swinging on the gates of _The World_ office, kids cheering from below.  
Crutchie pats my back, "We betta see what's goin' on."  
I swing my arm around his shoulders, making a better support system than his crutch, and we do our best to quickly join the others. Race spots us and he pushes through the crowd of newsboys to join us.  
"Ya gotta hide your hair," he tells me, taking my place next to Crutchie. His brow is furrowed and he glances back at the gates. I follow his gaze; I can vaguely make out two people on the other side of the gate, and Jack is mocking them, still hanging onto the gate. My eyes widen as I recognize the Delancey's. Race turns back to me, "Stay back here. They won't see youse. I'll take Crutchie up there and we'll get our papes. Don't move."

They push their way back up to the front, leaving me on the edges of the newsboy crowd. I look around me; younger boys stand on their tiptoes to see what's going on ahead, and the older kids egg Jack on as he insults the Delancey's. After making sure no blonde hair is visible from my cap, I ignore Race's orders and sneak up behind my friends.  
I place my hand on Race's shoulder, "What're they talking about?"  
"Just stupid stuff. It's all the same everyday," he does a double-take when he realizes it's me. Race looks back at Oscar and Morris; they're too invested in Jack, so Race turns to me, pushing us back a bit, "I thought I told youse ta stay back."  
I cross my arms over my chest, "Since when were you my mother?"  
"I don't want them ta see youse," his voice lowers and he leans in, "What happens then?"  
"They won't see me," I assure him, tugging my hat on tighter for effect.  
Race scans my face, still unsure. I hold his gaze and he finally sighs in defeat, "Fine. But stay behind me." I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut.

He turns back to the gates, pushing me securely behind him. I stand on my toes to peek over his shoulder. My eyes lock with Oscar's, and he pauses mid-sentence. Oscar's eyes narrow, trying to place my face. I duck behind Race and pray that something will distract Oscar.  
Fortunately, the gates open, allowing the newsies access to the distribution desk, and the Delancey's hurry out of the way and into the office. Jack grabs a rope and slides down, landing on the ground next to Race, and they head for the front of the line. I stand back, letting the boys get their papers.  
I find an empty wooden crate and sit down. After a few minutes, I start to zone out as I watch the scene in front of me. It was the same every morning: I wait, the boys get their papes, and then Race and I take off for Sheepshead.

My attention snaps back as I realize I'm staring at Oscar Delancey, who is staring right back at me. He ignores whatever Race says to him, "'Ay Race, word on the street is youse got yourself a goil."  
Race tenses. "I ain't got no goil," he smirks, "Maybe youse is confused wit da goil who soaked ya. At least, dat's da word on da street." The newsies' failed attempts at holding back laughs shut Oscar up.  
Oscar shoves Race's papers at him. Before Race has a chance to walk away, Oscar yells after him, "If ya see any pretty goil lookin' for a job, tell her we'se is hirin'." His eyes dart back to me, "A real pretty goil."  
My stomach clenches and I break the eye contact.

* * *

The trolley ride to Sheepshead shows no signs of what happened at _The World_ office. I help Race scan the headlines, looking for anything that could be a good hook- or something we can twist to sound like a good hook.  
I point to an article at the bottom corner of a page, "How about this?"  
Race reads it aloud, "'Nude corpse found on Grand Central tracks'?" He pauses for a moment, then smiles and looks up at me, "Dat's poifect." I smile, too, proud of myself for finding a worthy headline.  
Satisfied with the paper, we observe the people on the trolley. Businessmen in their suits discuss important topics to one another, the occasional buying a paper to catch up on the competition. Immigrants nervously glance back and forth at the others on the trolley, their children looking out the windows and pointing excitedly at all the wonders of the new country.  
Race leans in and subtly points at the bench to the right of us; an elderly women with a headscarf tied tightly under her chin clutches a blanket-covered basket in her lamp. On closer inspection, something wiggles within the basket and a soft 'mew' can be heard from inside. The woman notices our stares; she smiles and removes the blanket. Five fuzzy kittens snuggle up inside, while one breaks away from the group, lifting her head to peek at what woke her up.

The woman smiles, "Would you like to hold one?"  
I nod and she holds the basket out to me. I carefully lift the one looking up at me out of the basket. Its tiny heartbeat thumps against my fingers. I bring the kitten up to my face, its soft, gray fur tickles my cheek.  
I offer the cat to Race and he holds it with more care than I. He pets the kitten's nose with his index finger and laughs at it licks his fingertip. He looks at the woman, "What is youse plannin' on doin' wit dese guys?"  
She shrugs, "Not sure yet. Guess I'm waitin' for folks like you to fall in love with one of them."  
Race glances at me and smiles, "How much?"  
Before I can protest Race buying a pet for me, the woman waves his question off, "You take her. She needs a good home."

The trolley stops then and the driver calls out for whoever is getting off for Sheepshead Bay. Race shuffles his papes neatly in a pile, hoisting them over his shoulder. I thank the woman with the basket, clutching the kitten to my chest. We hop off the trolley and make our way through the crowd to the racetrack.  
Race quickly sells his papers with the interesting headline. He's drawn to the kitten in my hands, scratching its head in between sales, "What youse gonna name it?"  
The kitten plays with some hair that has fallen out from under my cap. I laugh and lightly swat its paw away, "Not sure yet. I'm sure I'll think of something."  
"Well until then," he holds out half of his remaining papes, "howse about youse help me and we get outta here?"  
I smile, "Last one done buys the other lunch at Jacobi's." I take the papers and rush off ahead of Race.  
"Wait!" he calls after me, "You already get free lunch!"  
"Exactly!" I yell back. The kitten surprisingly fits inside my pocket, and its little head bobs along as Race and I sell our papes.

* * *

**A/N: Another short one, I'm sorry. I really have no idea where I'm going with this. But I'll think of something. :)**  
**What do you guys think of the kitten? I have a few names thought up, but if someone has a name for a cute gray kitty, let me know! :)**

**Have you seen the "Newsies Got Swag" rap? It's hilarious. Some boys of the Broadway cast put it together. It's on YouTube. I highly suggest you look it up; it's a treat.**

**Always remember to review! It makes my heart smile. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

*Ace's POV*

"Extry! Extry!" I yell through the crowd. A race is scheduled for later in the day, and there are more people around than usual. Few people actually acknowledge my shouting. The kitten inside my pocket mews at my shouting; I stroke its head in comfort. I find a bench and stand up on it, waving a paper in the air and raising my voice, "Naked body found dead at Grand Central! Unidentifiable! Extry!"  
At last, a boy my age stops and turns, a look of interest on his face.  
I smile, "Care for a pape?"  
The boy swings a gold-tipped cane in his hand and ignores my question, "Where youse from?"  
"Dats for me ta know, and youse ta never find out," I smirk, inwardly patting myself on the back for an attempt at a newsboy accent.  
"Manhattan," the boy concludes.  
I hold my chin up, "What makes youse say dat?"  
He winks, "Trust me, goily."  
"How do you know I'm a girl?" The accent drops. My eyes narrow and I cross my arms over my chest.  
He taps his head, "Well for one thing, I can see youse blonde hair. And another," he winks again, "those clothes ain't doin' much ta hide much." It's all I can not to hit him.  
The boy motions behind me, "Looks like the ol' Racetrack is comin' for youse."

I turn to where he is pointing and see Race heading for us. His hands are empty of papers and an eyebrow is raised. The two share a stiff nod in acknowledgement.  
"C'mon, Ace. We'se is late for Jacobi's," Race holds my arm and tries to lead me away from the boy.  
I pull away and waggle a finger between the boys, "You know each other?"  
"Dear me, miss. I forgot ta introduce meself," the boy holds out his hand, "Name's Spot Conlon." I look at his hand then back at him, refusing to shake it. He purses his lips and pulls his arm back in.  
Race sighs, "Spot helped us out during da strike. He got Brooklyn and other Burroughs ta join."  
Spot smirks, swinging that cane again, "I also flushed out ol' Racetrack here in cards. Ain't dat right?"  
Race steps closer to Spot, nose to nose, "Youse cheated, and youse knows it!"

As Spot raises his cane threateningly, I jump between the two, "Hold it, you two! We don't need any of this." I put either hand on their chests, pushing them away from each other, "You boys just proved to the world that you're mature and can handle yourselves. The last thing the newsies need is a fight breaking out." Neither of them break eye contact, but I can tell that they heard me.  
Now I'm the one pulling Race's arm, "Like you said, let's go. I'm gonna be late for my shift."  
Race complies and we walk away. He suddenly stops in his tracks. A grin is plastered on his face as he looks at me, then back at Spot, "I'se got an idea." He turns and hurries to catch up with Spot, who's walking the opposite direction.  
"A rematch," Race says as he catches up with Spot.  
"'Scuse me?" Spot raises an eyebrow, leaning on his cane.  
"Youse heard me. A rematch. Only it won't be me," Race smirks. My eyes widen as I realize his plan. He continues, "Youse is gonna play Ace."  
Spot glances at me, "A goil? I'm not so sure dat's a fair game."  
I put my hands on my hips, "Scared to lose?"  
He looks me up and down and I glower at him. He smirks yet again, "You're on." He spits into one palm and holds it out.  
I grimace, looking at the hand and then Race for his opinion. He nods, urging me on. I sigh, clapping my own spit-covered hand with Spot's.

* * *

"Oh my God, Race. What just happened?" I ask as we ride the trolley back to Manhattan. We agreed with Spot to have him come to the Lodging House tomorrow night at eight. Could he bring some of his own boys? Yes, that was fine. Will he be ready to pay back everything he "cheated" Race out of? Ha, only if the girl wins. I nervously pet the kitten in my lap.  
Race throws an arm around my shoulders, "Ah, it won't be dat bad."  
"I don't even know this guy!"  
"You didn't know Jack or any of us when you played that first night," he counters.  
I sink down in the bench, "That was different."  
"How so?"  
"I actually volunteered to do it!" My voice raises and the other passengers give us questioning looks. I lower my voice to a whisper, "And I wasn't fighting for someone else's pay."  
"Oh, c'mon. That's what friends are for! Best friends!" He looks at me hopefully. "Please, Ace?"  
I roll my eyes, "Fine." I look down at the kitten in my lap, "Will she be okay in the Lodging House?"  
"The cat?" Race shrugs, "Jack can't say no to a cat." He fiddles with a furry ear, "What youse gonna name it?"  
I hold her up, looking into her blue eyes, "Ducky."  
"Ducky?"  
"I had a toy when I was little. A gray cat that looked just like her. I named it Ducky."  
He nods slowly, "Okay... but Ducky?"  
"I was seven!"  
Race smirks, "Whatever youse says."

The trolley driver calls out our stop. Race grabs the handful of papers I was unable to sell and we hop off the trolley, making our way towards Jacobi's. Within a block of the deli, I can hear the newsies inside, catching up on how the morning went and ordering food. We walk inside and they call us over to their table in the back corner.  
"Here," I say, pulling Ducky out from my pocket, "Take her. I need to change."  
Race takes the kitten and joins the boys. I go to the back room behind the deli counter, where a working dress and apron wait for me. Brooms and supplies clutter the floor of the room, and a mirror stands in one corner. I begin to undress but catch myself in the mirror.  
My bare torso is pale and my ribs jut out a little. Freckles dot my arms and shoulders and appear again on my legs. I take a step closer to the mirror. The damage is visible now. Scratches line my arms and legs. A few bumps and bruises leave purple marks on my knees and elbows. All minor injuries. But the scars on my shoulders are anything but minor.

I take a breath and look away from the mirror, refusing any thoughts into my head. _Just get dressed and get to work_. My hands fumble with the buttons on the dress, but I finally get them fastened. I remove my cap, shaking my hair down and massaging my roots. Brushing my hair with one hand and grabbing my apron with the other, I return to the dining room. The newsies wolf-whistle at me as I emerge. I roll my eyes and set off to clean the empty tables and take orders.  
After a half hour of work, Jack calls to me, "Hey, Ace." He waves me over.  
"I've got work to do, Cowboy," I walk to their table despite my argument.  
"You got a cat?" Ducky sits on his lap, playing with a shoestring that was found on the ground.  
I put my hands on my hips, "Yes."  
"Why'd you do that?"  
"I need something enjoyable living in a house with you boys." A chorus of "Hey!" and "We ain't dat bad!" rings out and caps are thrown at me. I put my hands up, "Kidding, only kidding." Turning back to Jack, I put on my best begging face, "Can she stay? Please, Cowboy?"  
Jack smiles as Ducky rubs against his hand, "It's your cat. Youse gotta feed it."  
"There's always leftovers in the icebox," I say, pointing my thumb behind me. "Anyway, I gotta get back to work. You boys heading home soon?"  
Race nods, "I'll wait for youse."  
I smile, "I know it." I start to turn away but quickly stop myself, "Hey, Racetrack, why don't you tell them 'bout the little party tomorrow night? With Spot?"

A loud "WHAT?!" echoes throughout the deli as I laugh and return to bussing tables and delivering food to the rightful customers. The day passes and nothing eventful happens. Most of the newsboys leave, calling their goodbyes to the others and me. I look back at the table to see only Race, Jack, and Crutchie remaining.  
"You can go ahead and go, Ace," Mr. Jacobi tells me from behind the counter.  
"You sure?" I ask, not looking away from the stain on the floor I was scrubbing.  
He chuckles, "That spot will be there tomorrow. I'm sure there are other things you'd rather do tonight."  
I smile and stand up, "Thank you, sir."  
The three boys at the back table stand up and I excuse myself into the back room to change into my other outfit, avoiding the mirror in the corner at all costs. Mr. Jacobi hands me my day's pay when I finish dressing and I exit with Race, Jack, and Crutchie.

"So youse is gonna play Spot tomorrow night? _The_ Spot Conlon?" Crutchie asks as we make our way back to the Lodging House in the dimming sunlight.  
"Unless there's another Spot I don't know of, that's the one."  
Crutchie shakes his head in wonder, "Youse got nerve, Ace."  
"Hey, it wasn't my doing," I argue, "Race signed me up for it." I throw a look in Race's direction. He shrugs it off with a puff of the cigar that now hangs from his mouth.

And that's when I see her.  
The tall, straight-back stature of the first class. The dark blonde hair, pulled tightly back in a tight bun. The fierce green eyes, judging anyone and everyone of a lesser class than she.  
I see her.  
And she sees me.  
The moment is short, but also infinite. I stop in my track and it takes a few paces for the other three to notice and look back at me. But I see only her. Her eyes lock with mine. Her brow knits together in a mix of recognition, shock, and confusion.  
And then I run.  
"Ace! What the hell! Ace! Wait!" Race yells after me. But I ignore him.  
Angry shouts are thrown out as I push random passerby out of my way. But I don't stop until I reach the Lodging House, and even then I race up the fire escape to the roof.

I haven't seen her in three years.  
My mother.

* * *

**A/N: Oooooh, it's getting intense now! ;) Soon you'll find out Ace's past! I'm getting so excited and I hope you are, too.**  
**What do you think of the kitten's name?**  
**Please review!**  
**But seriously.**  
**Review.**  
**Please?**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

*Race's POV*

Something set Ace off. She ignored everything in her way and ran, ran, ran. I try running after her, but Jack stops me.  
"Just let her go," he says holding my shoulder, "She's a goil. They needs their privacy when they'se upset."  
"Whaddaya tink happened?" Crutchie asks, taking Ducky out of my arms.  
"No clue," I shake my head, "But I'm gonna find out."

We stop at _The World_ desk, selling back the papers that Ace hadn't sold earlier. Weasel buys them back reluctantly, and I take the money with a smug grin.  
"It's good ta have some rights, ain't it, Mistah Weasel?" Jack winks as I flip a coin in the air, taking a puff of my cigar.  
Weasel waves us off, "Get home, boys. You're scaring the rats away."  
I notice Oscar and Morris sorting papers in the background and smirk, "Ah, don't go talkin' bad 'bout the Delancey's now. Der family loves 'em just the way they is."  
Oscar lunges for the bars separating the desk to the outside world and I blow cigar smoke in his face before turning away with Jack and Crutchie.  
"Tell your girl I say hi," Oscar calls after me. I pause but quickly pick up my pace, refusing to look back.

The Lodging House is just how it always is: loud, stuffy, and chaotic. Kloppman tries to gain order, but to no avail. Younger boys run around, chasing each other in a game of tag. On the stairs, Mush deals Kid Blink a set of cards.  
"'Ay, Race," Blink holds up a card, "You in?"  
I shake my head, "Not tonight. You see Ace?"  
Kid Blink nods up to the ceiling, "Hoid some ruckus up der. Betta check it out."  
I thank Blink and head for the icebox in the small kitchen closet. Kloppman always kept a secret beer or coke. He knew we knew about it, but we only ever used it in case of an emergency. _This is an emergency_.

I grab two beers and escape to the roof. She's there, sitting against the short wall that separates the roof from the New York skyline. Her knees are pulled to her chest and her head is buried in her arm. I drop the money from Weasel into her cap at her feet.  
Ace slowly looks up at the money, "What's this?" Her voice is weak and hollow, and I realize she's been crying.  
"From the extra papes. Figured youse could use it tomorrow wit Spot."  
"Oh," she sniffs, "Thanks."  
I sit down next to her, "Youse gonna tell me what happened back der?"  
She nods, "That was my mother. I haven't seen her in three years."  
"Oh." _Oh? She's upset and all you can say is 'oh'? _I wasn't comfortable with people sharing their personal lives. None of the newsies did it- it was like some unwritten rule that whatever life you had before you became a hawker was never mentioned.

But Ace was different. I wanted to know her life, her story. I still didn't know why she was fired from the Delancey's, or why she was even with them in the first place. I wanted to know about her family, if she even had a family. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Ace.  
"Yeah," she sniffs again and wipes her nose on her sleeve, "God, I'm a mess. You don't have to be up here, you know."  
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, "I wanna be."  
Ace smiles and rests her head on my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few minutes. She takes a sip of her beer, "Hey, Race?"  
"Hmm?"  
"We're best friends, aren't we?"  
"I sure hope so. Else I'd like my bunk back."  
She pushes my arm, "I'm being serious."  
"A'course we'se is best friends. Who else goes all da way to Sheepshead wit me ta sell papes?"  
Ace laughs, then frowns, "And best friends tell each other everything, right?"  
I look directly at her, "What youse goin' on about?" My forehead meets hers, "Youse can trust me."  
She smiles and blinks. Her eyelashes tickle my cheeks, "I know."  
"So whaddaya need ta tell me?"  
"It's a long story."  
"We've got all night."

* * *

**A/N: Waaahhhh, I know it's short. I'm so sorry. There are good reasons though:**  
**1. My dog died this past Sunday, and it's been a really hard week on me and my family. If you've owned a pet, or own a pet, or had to put one down, I hope you understand this.**  
**2. This past week was my school's homecoming! It was really fun, (Wednesday was Disney day- I was a Newsie, holla.) and now it's back to the normal swing of things.**  
**3. You find out about Ace's past in the next chapter! It'll be really long, and so I figured a short chapter would suffice for now.**

**But until then, please enjoy this. And leave a review. What I would like would be for you to copy & paste your favorite part or just a part of the chapter that stood out to you, whether you liked it or not, and explain why. Seriously those little things are what I really love and it would help me improve my writing skills or know where my strengths/weaknesses are. Please do this! It would be great. :)**

**Thanks! Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is a long one. You find out about Ace's past and what she's been through. Hope you like it!  
Also, this is kind of written as one big monologue- from Race's POV. So Ace will just have this one big monologue and Race will cut in a few times. I don't know why but whenever I thought about this scene, I always saw it from Race's eyes. Hope that clears up any possible confusion, if there even would be any!**

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*Race's POV*

Ace pulls away from me a bit, "You're not allowed to interrupt."  
I draw an X over my chest, "Promise."  
She smiles and takes a quick sip of her beer before she starts, "I grew up just outside of the city, in Yonkers. You could consider me first class, but I hate thinking of myself that way. I had a big house with a handful of servants and plenty of space to run around. I had two younger brothers, Andrew and Jeremy, and my parents were wonderful people. Father was a Wall Street banker and my mother was the typical high society lady. Nothing was out of order when Maria Bunker was around. I looked up to her like nothing else. She was beautiful and smart, but with just the right circumstance, she could become cold and painfully harsh. Don't get me wrong, I loved her and still do, but even from an early age I knew I did not want to become another high class woman when I grew up.

"On my seventh birthday, my parents took me into the city, leaving my brothers behind. I felt so special. We went into the finest dress shops and where all the 'big girls' took tea. But I wasn't interested in the dress and fancy afternoon tea. It was that evening when Father surprised both Mother and I with tickets to a vaudeville show. Mother wasn't too pleased, but I was ecstatic. So we see the show and I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, watching it all with huge eyes. But it wasn't until the very last act that I almost wet myself in excitement."

Despite my promise earlier, I snicker at this part. She elbows me, "Thought you weren't gonna interrupt."  
I shake my head, "Sorry, I just can't picture youse peein' yer pants."  
She stick my tongue out, "Shut up."  
"Yeah, yeah. So what happened in da last act?"

She smiles at the memory, "This incredible, beautiful woman came out. Her dress was cut in the new fashion for stage performers- you know, a low-cut neckline and the skirt above the knees- and the men in the audience perked up at her bare legs. Mother was appalled, but I thought she looked like an angel. And then she sang. Her voice matched what she looked like. I'm guessing her song had various innuendos that I didn't understand, but I was hooked nonetheless. I was only seven, but from that moment on I knew I wanted to be just like that woman when I was older.

"When we got home, I sang all the time. Everyday, all day, everything I did was sung. My brothers and the servants were amused and Father just waved it off as some childish phase. But Mother disapproves, and for the enxt seven years of my life she tried to get me to forget about the show and the woman. But I couldn't forget. You just don't forget something like that, you know? Something that hit you so hard in the core and you just know its right.

"So then comes my fourteenth birthday and Father plans this huge party. All of New York's upper class was there, despite the fact that I knew hardly any of the guests. A band played lively music and I was asked to dance by multiple men, all handsome in their top hats and suits. I accepted them all, feeling lovely and adored and glamorous. Little did I know that these men were suitors my parents had specifically invited and planned for.

"The party ended, but for weeks after my birthday the men kept coming. We would have dinners and Father would talk business with the men and I was expected to be on my best behavior. Slowly the number dwindled down to only a small handful, and finally there was one man left: James Sharpe. He was thirteen years older than me, handsome, charming, and most importantly, rich. He owned a shirtwaist factory in the city and invited me to see it with him one day. I only agreed because I wanted to get out of the house. The factory was incredible- and not in the good way. It was a tall, brick building with hardly any windows. Inside, there was floor after floor of girls on sewing machines. Girls my age and younger sewing all day long. There were other employees, guys I assume were supposed to man the sewing and shirts and girls. They barked harsh orders at the workers, but politely tipped their hats and gave their welcome to James and I. And it was hot, so hot. The air was hard to breathe and I think James noticed the horrified look on my face, so he suggested we take a walk in a nearby park.

"As we walk in the park, casual conversation starts up and I'm uninterested, still a little phased from the factory. So you can imagine my surprise when James turned the conversation into a more serious topic.  
"'What did you think of the factory?' he asked me suddenly.  
"'Well,' I began, 'it seems like quite the business. The workers seem... strong. Fast.'  
"'Oh yes, very fast. Lots of productivity in a single day,' he smiled smugly. I made some uncommitted noise and he stopped me, taking my hands, 'I do sincerely hope you liked it, Adelynne.' I cringed at his use of my full name, but it went unnoticed and he continued, 'Can't have my future wife disliking my career.'  
"I pulled away, 'Your... wife?'  
"He nodded, smiling again in that awful way, 'And you'll make a fine one, indeed.'  
"I didn't know what to think. I couldn't think. I was quiet for the rest of the walk and back in the carriage to Yonkers. I kept my face turned towards the window and jumped a bit when James touched my knee, 'Adelynne, I must apologize. I assume I was too forward in the park and you were frightened. My dear,' he forced me to look at him, 'Will you be my wife?'  
"I swallowed hard, 'I'm flattered, James, really I am. But I'm not ready for this. I know it wouldn't be a long time until we do marry, but I can't be engaged. I'm still a girl. I'm sorry. I have to refuse your proposal.' James kept quiet now, and he simply kissed my hand and left when we got home.

"I shut myself up in my room for days, refusing to open the door for anyone except my maidservant with food. I felt like my whole had come to a stop. Suddenly I was looking at my future as an adult. Marriage was an option. I had been courting and hadn't even realized it. I still wanted to sing and perform like that lady from so long ago. That was the future I wanted. I decided right then and there, that was the future I would somehow have.

"Finally after a few days of solitude, I allowed my mother to talk to me. I told her everything that had happened: the factory, the walk in the park, the proposal, my refusal and the new plan I had for my future. Mother was supportive of every bit of except those last two parts. When I finished, her jaw was clenched and she chewed her tongue- something she always did when she was upset.  
"'Adelynne,' she started and that was when I knew something was wrong. She never called me by my first name. 'James Sharpe is a very powerful, well respected man. He is the top choice your father and I had for you. You were to accept his proposal graciously, but you did not. You've shamed yourself and this family.' She quietly excused herself then. And then everything went back to normal after that. I assume Mother informed Father of what had happened, but they showed no sign of it. My brothers were clueless. I thought everything would be okay then, even though her words haunted me everyday.

"And then one morning came when my maidservant shook me hard, 'Wake up, Miss Addie.' Her voice was hurried and I knew something was wrong.  
"'What's going on?'  
"'You're going away.'  
"I was confused, I hadn't heard anything about a trip, 'Like a vacation?' She didn't say anything more, just laid out an outfit for me and began packing a suitcase. I quickly dressed and went downstairs to breakfast. My family was already around the table. My brothers glanced at me wearily and my parents hardly noticed my presence. I had to break the silence, 'We're going away?'  
"Mother quietly sipped her tea, 'Not we. Just you.'  
"'Where am I going?'  
"'Into the city.'  
"'For what?' I asked with a slight irritation at her short answers.  
"'You're going to be a housekeeper, dear,' she replied, her voice dripping with the fake sweetness she was so good at.  
"I closed my eyes and shook my head, 'I don't understand.'  
"Mother finally made eye contact with me, 'You want to be a showgirl? Fine. You have to live like a showgirl. You will make your own living. You're lucky we took the liberty to find you a job.' Her eyes turned icy and fear clenched my stomach. She spoke through her teeth, 'Showgirls are not first class. Showgirls are not in this family.'

Ace stopped talking for a minute. I glanced at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hand clenched around her beer. I gently put my hand atop hers and she exhaled slowly. Her voice was soft when she spoke again, "An hour later, all my belongings were put in the back of a carriage. I hugged my brothers and kissed their foreheads. They were so confused and I wish I had told them what had happened. I told them I loved them and to tell the same to our parents, who had stayed inside. Before I knew it, I was in the carriage and headed to Manhattan. That night, I was the newly hired housekeeper of the Delancey family."

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**A/N: I was planning on doing all of her story in one big chapter, but then it got really long and I knew it would be forever until I actually finished and posted it. You guys have waited a week, so why not post the first part of Ace's past now, right? I hope you like it, I really do. What do you think about how I wrote it? I didn't want to do the flashback style because Ace is actually telling Race her story, not just having a memory. Don't forget to review! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys! So sorry for the long wait. I've been loaded down with college essays and a short story for my English class but here you go! Let me know what you think. :)**

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Chapter 9

*Race's POV*

I look at Ace, bewildered, "So that's how you ended up with the Delancey's."  
She nods and sighs, "What a fine life."  
There's a long silence before either of us say something. I think about everything she just told me. Her family, her birthdays, the singer, the fiance, and getting kicked out of her own house. "They just threw you out like that?" I think aloud.  
"Just like that," she replies quietly.  
We sit in silence for a long time. A few sips of beer are taken here and there, and loud conversation from inside is heard.

Then she looks at me with a serious gaze, "This is the part you won't like. You're going to get angry, and that's fine. But I need you to listen to the whole thing before doing anything stupid, okay?"  
I nod, "Okay."

Ace takes a swig from her bottle and sighs, "I was with them for three years. Life at first was easy. Oscar and Morris were off at some school in Massachusetts, so it was just their parents and me. They were nice folks. Mr. Delancey worked as an editor of _The World_, so when he'd go off everyday, Mrs. Delancey took me under her wing. She treated me fairly. I think she'd always wanted a daughter and since her sons weren't home, she was kinder to me than I expected. She still kept her distance because I was her help and all. For the first few days, she taught me how to clean, which recipes she wanted me to cook for dinner that night, and various other chores like how Mr. Delancey preferred his shirts to be folded.

"After I finally got the hang of things, Mrs. Delancey would trust me with the house and leave for errands or to meet up with a friend. I spent my days singing while I worked, or else it was weird being alone in that big, quiet house. My curiosity eventually got the better of me and I took to exploring the house while doing my work, always with a wet rag or broom in hand in case Mrs. Delancey came home and asked what I was doing.

"In the evenings, when Mr. Delancey would come home, he'd often bring along other _World_ employees. They'd sit in the study and smoke big, fat cigars and discuss the paper over a game of poker. I'd be in the room, always ready with a new cigar or bottle of whatever the choice beverage of the night was. Watching them play cards, I eventually learned the basics of the game and little cheats here and there ensure a win.

"Mr. Delancey was alright at playing, I guess. Sometimes he'd have a good hand and other times he'd lose the pot. One night he suffered a big loss and it made me sad to see him lose. I mean, he was my boss and that was my pay he was throwing away. So when the other men all went home and I was left to clean up the glasses and ashtrays, Mr. Delancey continued to sit in his chair and stare into space. I was planning on just ignoring him and working around him until he spoke.  
"'Thomas sure made me a fool tonight,' he sighed. I didn't know how to respond or even if I should, so I continued to wipe down the table. He kept talking though, 'Dammit, and I thought I had him.'  
"I kept my eyes down but I finally replied to him, 'I don't think he's that great at the game.' I could see I caught his attention, so I kept going, 'I mean, I've seen his hands and I think he keeps extra cards in his sleeves.'  
"Mr. Delancey thought about this for minute, 'No kidding?'  
"I shook my head, 'You can beat him for sure.'  
"'You know how to play?'  
"'Never played, but I've picked up on it from watching you.'

"So we began a plan of attack for this Thomas guy. I'd continue to do my work while the men played. When I passed by Thomas, I'd glance at his cards and give Mr. Delancey signals to what cards Thomas had. A cough, a sniff, a swish of the bottle, a hum, all subtle things that cued Mr. Delancey. None of the other men caught on, and Mr. Delancey won the entire pot. So we continued this teamwork and I noticed my pay expanded with his winnings. Mrs. Delancey didn't know, of course, and it felt nice to have a secret with such a powerful person. I became a jewel in Mr. Delancey's eyes and I think if he had to make a choice, he'd choose me over his sons. Of course, I'd never met his sons, but that's how it felt.

"I was there a year before Oscar and Morris came home. The dean of their school sent them away after some misbehavior with a teacher's daughter. I don't really know, and I didn't really want to know. All I knew was that I had to get used to having two more people to clean up after, especially someone like Oscar and Morris. They were hard to keep after along with the chores I already had. They were like kids, immature and loud, but not cute like a kid would be.

"Oscar and Morris took a liking to me. They realized I picked up after then and always followed orders in a timely manner. One night, Mr. and Mrs. Delancey went out to dinner and a show, so it was just me and the boys. I was cleaning the kitchen from lunch and preparing dinner when the boys came in.  
"'What's on the menu, girly?' Morris asked. They always called me that. I don't think they even knew my name. I heard them step closer and stand behind me, looking into the pot.  
"'Chicken soup,' I said, 'That alright?'  
"Oscar was closest to me and his mouth was right next to my ear, 'That's mighty fine with me.' His hand covered mine on the spoon I held. I froze and didn't take my eyes away from the soup, but he remained where he was.  
"'You know,' Morris said somewhere behind Oscar, but still uncomfortable close to me, 'You do a great job around the house. I don't think we've ever told you that before.'  
"Oscar snickered and his breath shot down my neck, 'I wonder where else you'd do a great job.' His hand rightened over mine and somehow he turned me around. His mouth covered mine and I tasted a gross mix of alcohol and tobacco. I pulled away and did the only thing I could in my shock- my hand found his cheek with a loud smack.  
"They just smirked and walked out of the kitchen. I stood there, staring at the door where they left. The only positive thing I could find was that I had left a red handprint on Oscar's cheek. I finished the soup and quickly cleaned the kitchen. I left two full bowls on the table and retreated to my room."

"He just kissed you like that?!" I blurt out, ignoring the promise to keep my mouth shut.  
"You're not allowed to talk," Ace mumbles.  
"I don't care. That's not okay with me."  
Ace just gives me a tired look, "If you're going to react like this with just one stupid kiss then I'm not telling you the rest."  
I sigh, "Sorry. I just don't like the thought of that."  
She gives me a small smile, "It's okay. I like that you care."  
There's a long quiet moment. _We sure have a lot of these_. "You can talk again."

"After that, I planned to act like nothing happened and so did the boys. They didn't bother me again, but there were a few times when I would catch them staring at me. They'd look away and I'd get back to what I was doing. Fortunately their parents didn't catch on. Mr. Delancey would still host card games and I'd be in the room, serving drinks and giving Mr. Delancey little cues here and there, but he finally managed to fend for himself. He'd still give me a portion of his winnings and favored me over his sons. Oscar and Morris noticed their father's favoritism and my extra pay. They started sitting in on the card games. I minimized the amount of times I would cue Mr. Delancey, afraid of what the boys would do if they caught on.

"One night came when one of the men turned to me and asked if I would like to play. I was scared that we had been caught, but Mr. Delancey seemed fine with it. I declined, but everyone egged me on. Oscar and Morris were in the room that night and they sat at the card table, smirking at me. Seeing their stupid smug faces was what finally made me say yes. I sat down at the table full of men and someone dealt the cards. After a long game of throwing everything we had into the pot, we revealed our cards. I had a four of a kind, certainly not my best hand that I've had-you know that- but it was high enough to beat a majority of those at the table. Everyone was shocked but amused. Mr. Delancey seemed proud and even had the nerve to shout out, 'That's my girl!' Oscar and Morris weren't too happy.

"So word got around that I could play poker. Mr. Delancey invited more and more men each night, all who were eager to see me play. I improved with each game, and with each game Oscar's and Morris's glares increased. I began to rub it in their faces, reveling in my wins and the attention from their father and making a big show of collecting my winnings after the games. It seemed all memory of the kiss had been erased.

"Another night came when Mr. and Mrs. Delancey went out and left me alone with the boys. Christmas was drawing near and I was busy with planning the decorations, shopping lists, and meals for the holiday. A large Christmas tree loomed over the living room and I stood on a ladder, trying to place the angel at the top. Oscar and Morris walked in then, each with a fresh cookie in their hand. I silently hoped they had burnt their fingers on the tray.  
"'Lookin' good, girly,' Morris called up. I didn't know whether he meant the decorations or some kind of remark to my dirt-covered dress, so I ignored him.  
"'Need any help?' Oscar asked.  
"I looked down at them. They had yet again a stupid smirk. 'I think I'm good. Thanks though.' I hated having to be polite to them. If I could I would have spat in their faces whenever possible but you can't exactly do that when you work for them.  
"Despite my reply, Oscar held onto the ladder as if to stable it, 'I gotcha girly.' I rolled my eyes and the next thing I knew Oscar shook the ladder and I went toppling off it and onto the floor. I sat up and tried to get up but they stood over me.  
"'What've you been doing with all your winnings these days? And the extra our father gives you?' Morris asked me.  
"'Saving it away.' I didn't know they knew about Mr. Delancey's raise and there was no way I would let them take away the money I'd earned. I still had a goal that landed me in this position and by God, I was going to get to that goal.  
"'You're awfully good at that game,' Oscar said, 'So good someone might think you were cheating.'  
"'Yeah well I'm not cheating. I'm good.'  
"'But dear old daddy isn't so good at it. He's had a little helper, we've noticed,' Oscar said.  
"Morris continued, 'It'd be a shame to think what'd happen if word got out that Edgar Delancey's been cheating with the help of his little maid.'  
"I tried staring them down despite my vulnerable position on the ground, 'How do you know that?'  
"'We've got our ways,' Morris said.  
"'But you wouldn't do that to your father,' I countered.  
"'He hasn't been all that loyal to us,' Oscar said, leaning down, 'So here's how it's gonna go. You want your little secret kept shut? You do what we say, when we say it, with no objections.'  
"'And no word to our parents either,' Morris put in, getting in my face, 'You can keep up this charade with playing and winning and tricking everybody in town. We won't say anything, you won't say anything.'  
"'And if I don't agree?' I asked.  
"They laughed and Oscar grabbed my chin to pull it up to his face, 'Then your secret's blown.' I sat there on the ground between them with my face in Oscar's hand. There were pros and cons to both situations: if I agreed, Mr. Delancey still had his reputation and I would still be paid, but having to do whatever they told me could become tiresome and possibly dangerous; if I didn't agree, the secret would be blown and I'd inevitably lose my job. I weighed both options in my head for a long time before reluctantly agreeing."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Yay for close updates! I really just wanted you guys to know her full story. It's super intense. I'm just going to say that. Let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 10

*Race's POV*

"I have a feeling I ain't gonna like this part," I say to Ace when she pauses with her story.  
She nods, "You're probably right." She looks down at our hands. They became intertwined somewhere during her speaking.  
I play with her fingers, "Did they kiss youse anymore?" She doesn't answer and I take it as a 'yes.'

"At first it wasn't anything big. Just little things like helping them win the card games instead of their father or cleaning their rooms to insane standards. As Christmas drew nearer, though, their orders became a little tougher. I was forced to go to all these stupid parties with them and be their date, swapping off dances and hanging on their arms like some stupid floozy. I'd have to giggle and flirt and even kiss their cheek like I actually enjoyed being there. Then when we'd get home, they'd ignore me and I'd get to the work I needed to finish.

"There were countless times when I was so close to refusing their orders and doing what I wanted, but then I'd remember what would happen if I didn't obey: Mr. Delancey would lose his reputation, and probably his job, and ultimately I'd be fired because somehow Oscar and Morris would turn it around to make it seem like I blew the secret. I couldn't do that to either myself or Mr. Delancey. I liked him and his wife, it was their sons I hated. But I went on with it.

"Then it was the day of Christmas Eve. The Delancey's were holding the final holiday party of the season. Mrs. Delancey helped me throughout the day with the cleaning and cooking and she gave me the night off to attend the party. This time I wouldn't have to spend any time with the sons because it was the host home. Mrs. Delancey lent me a dark-green holiday dress and curled my hair. That was the first time in a long time I actually felt pretty, so I had an open heart about the night.

"Most of the guests were Mr. Delancey's coworkers and their wives, some of them brought their children. I knew a majority of them from the card games and they gave me friendly nods, still amused rather than upset that a girl beat them. One of the sons of a coworker asked me to dance and I would have declined, but I noticed Oscar and Morris walking in then, their eyes on me. I accepted the young man's request and we danced most of the night. I couldn't tell you his name if you asked me, I was just trying to stay away from the Delancey brothers. The young man- I think his name was Henry- went off to get us some eggnog and that was when Oscar and Morris finally caught up with me.

"'Made a new friend, did you?' Morris asked.  
"'If you couldn't tell, yes. I did,' I replied.  
"'Did you know he's the son of the most powerful partner our father has?' Oscar asked.  
"'What's that got anything to do with right now?' I was getting nervous. Henry was coming back and I could see he recognized Oscar and Morris.  
"'Oh nothing,' Morris said, 'Just wondering if you would dance with me for a change.' They exchanged some kind of glance and I didn't like the looks on their faces.  
"'I'm with Henry,' I glared at the two of them.  
"Henry came back then, 'You three know each other?' _Unfortunately_, I thought.  
"'Just old friends,' Morris said, 'I was actually going to see if you could spare her for one dance,' he told Henry.  
"'I'm with Henry,' I repeated.  
"'I don't mind,' Henry said, 'I need to find my parents anyways. Good to see you two again,' he said to the Delancey's before turning to me, 'Wonderful to meet you.' I smiled politely and he left, leaving me with Oscar and Morris.  
"Morris smirked, 'Guess you can't say 'no' now that he's gone.'  
"I smirked back, 'Watch me.' I turned around and began to walk away.  
"'It'd be a shame to what could happen if you don't dance with me,' Morris called after me. I stopped, remembering the deal we made. I shut my eyes and turned back to them.  
"'One dance,' I said through my teeth, 'and that's it.'  
"'We'll see about that,' Morris said as a song was ending.

"So he grabbed my hand and put one of his on my waist. A new song started up and somewhere in the middle of it, he managed to slide his hand lower down my back than I was comfortable with. I tried pulling away but he just pulled me closer.  
"'Let me go,' I ordered.  
"'You're not leaving that fast,' Morris whispered, 'Don't make a scene.'  
"But that was the end of it. I couldn't have anymore. People were starting to stare and I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Delancey watching us. I could feel my face burning red and I shoved his hands off me, 'I'm done with this. I don't care what happens.' I turned away from him and said goodnight to his parents before retreating to my room.

"I heard the door open and close as people left and the music died down. The footsteps on the stairs a floor above me told me that the Delancey's were in bed, and I finally relaxed and fell asleep. I wasn't asleep for long, though, because my door opened somewhere in the middle of the night. I could make out two figures in the dim light and I automatically knew it was Oscar and Morris.  
"'Get out,' I ordered.  
"One of them snickered, 'You're not getting away with that little scene that easy, girly.'  
"I sat up in bed as they came uncomfortably closer, 'So tell my secret. I don't care. Your father's got money anyway, he'll be fine without the games.'  
"The other one laughed this time, 'No, that'd be too easy. We don't care about the cheating anymore. Hell, we've done our fair share of cheating. But blowing it for you? No. That's too simple.'  
"They stood at the edge of my bed now and I got up on my knees to try to level with them, but it was no use. One of them, I think Oscar, pinned my arms to my side and kissed me with the same force he had before. I tried shoving away but I couldn't move my arms, so I popped my knee up and it hit just to the side of his groin, but still close enough to force him away. Morris lunged for me but I slipped past him and almost made it out the door if Oscar hadn't grabbed my ankle from his spot on the floor. I fell and they stood over me.  
"'Running won't do you much good, girly,' Morris said, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. He walked out of the room with Oscar right behind us. I screamed and kicked and hit his back. They took me outside to the carriage house. I hardly noticed it was snowing out, I was so scared and angry at what was happening.  
"'You should have listened to us,' Oscar said. That was the last clear thing I can remember from that night. I don't know what exactly else happened. I mean, I know they touched me and kissed me and hurt me. I just blacked out at one point and woke up the next morning, on Christmas, in the carriage house next to the horse."

Ace stops talking for a while. I realize she's crying and I pull her into a hug, letting her wipe her eyes and nose on my shirt. Her body shakes and she chokes out sob after sob into my chest. I rub my hand in slow circles across her back and shush her, trying to give her any sense of comfort. I'd never seen her so vulnerable before and I didn't like it. Her past made me so angry, but I couldn't show it. Ace needed me now and my hatred of the Delancey's wasn't going to help anything.  
When she finally quiets down, she stays curled up against me and I ask the thing I've been dying to know the answer to, "Did they... you know... rape you?" She shakes her head no and I sigh, relaxing a bit. We stay like that for who knows how long.

Ace pulls away a bit, looking at my eyes for the first time that night, "I have to show you something." She wipes her nose on her sleeve and stands up before turning her back to me. I see her arms move and it looks like she's unbuttoning her shirt.  
"What are youse doing?" I ask, scared for what I might see. She doesn't answer, though, but her shirt falls and I can see her bare back in the moonlight. My eyes widen as I take in the lashes and scars that line her shoulders and backside. Ace shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, keeping her back turned to me as she buttons her shirt back up.  
"They did that to youse?" I ask her when she turns back and sits beside me again.  
Ace sadly nods her head, "With the whip in the carriage house. You can bet I followed every last order they gave me from then on."  
"I'll kill 'em," I say, "The others will help me."  
"No!" she cries, "You can't tell the rest of them. 'Specially Jack."  
"But Ace," I start to argue with her.  
"No, Racetrack. You can't ever tell anyone. I trust you. Please," she begs.  
I have to look away, knowing she'll win, "Fine." There's a tense silence. "So then how'd youse get fired?"

She sighs, "I went to the police a little after New Year's. I would have gone earlier but I could hardly move around the house until my back healed. But they didn't believe me once I told them the whole story. I mean, who could blame them? It was me against the Delancey's, a wealthy and powerful family who had ties to just about everyone in New York City. So they sent me home with the 'deepest apologies for my injuries.'"

"They didn't believe you?" I ask.  
She shakes her head, "What evidence did I have. other than my back? 'That could've been anything.'" Ace sighs, "I continued to work for them, though. I needed the job and Mr. and Mrs. Delancey hadn't found out about the incident, and I don't think anyone was eager to speak up about it. I lived in fear, though. Always looking over my shoulder for the brothers. But they left me alone after that.

"It wasn't until your strike, seven months later, when I actually did something about it again. You guys gave all these kids the voice to speak up for their rights and at last workers had hope that something would finally change. After reading the article you all wrote, I decided to tell Mr. Delancey what had happened. He still seemed to like me even though the card games had been scarce for a while."

"So did he believe you?" I ask.  
Ace shook her head, "Apparently he talked to his sons about it. They had no recollection whatsoever of what happened and my scars were just the case of some accident I had while working. I was a temptress when it came to the kissing and touching part. I wanted it to happen. That's what they told their father, and he believed them. He was so shocked at what I did, he fired me on the spot and tossed me out."  
"So that was the night I ran into youse," I realize.  
"What a crazy night," she whispers and by the tone of her voice I'm afraid she'll cry again. "No one believed me," she says quietly, "I've never felt more lousy. And ugly. And worthless."  
I shake my head, "No. Don't say that. Youse ain't lousy or woithless. And youse _definitely_ ain't ugly." She smiles weakly but doesn't look at me. I lower my head closer to hers, "I believe you."  
Ace looks up, "What? Really?"  
"Every word," I assure her.

I realize the commotion from inside the Lodging House has died down completely and I guess everyone's sleeping.  
"We should probably get to bed," I tell her. Ace nods and I help her stand up. Before going inside, I get an idea and stop her, "Hey, Ace?"  
She turns, her hand on the doorknob, "Yeah?"  
"Youse think Jacobi will give youse the morning shift tomorrow?"  
She shrugs, "Guess so. Why?"  
"I'll sell my papes quickly, and then how's 'bout I take youse someplace. Youse had a rough day and deserve some fun."  
Ace smiles, "Like what?"  
"It's a surprise," I grin. She nods silently and we go inside then.

* * *

*Ace's POV*

I'm exhausted from today. So many things happened and I can't keep my mind straight as it tries to take in everything that happened. Ducky. The game tomorrow with Spot. Seeing Mother. Telling Race everything that's happened. _Just go to bed_. I grab my long johns that I use for pajamas and head for my changing curtain. I hear Race hop up onto his bunk above mine. I smile, grateful to have him in my life. I can't think of anyone I've ever had that I could have told all that to.

I change into the long johns and head for my bed. I'm almost under the sheets when Race speaks.  
"Hey, Ace?"  
"Mmmm?" I ask, peeking my head over his mattress to see him.  
"I'm sorry," he says simply. "No one deserves any of that, 'specially not youse."  
I smile softly, "Thanks, Race."  
"And I'm glad youse got outta that. All of it. I'm sorry 'bout yer family and da Delancey's and all that but," he says quickly, "I'm glad youse is here."  
"I'm glad I'm here, too," I say. I watch his face for a second and he matches the eye contact. Then with some random burst of heart, I lightly kiss his cheek, "Goodnight, Racetrack."

* * *

**A/N: Review please! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

*Race's POV*

An early morning snore from Jack wakes me up. My cheek burns where Ace kissed it last night and I grin stupidly. I have no idea what caused it, but I'm not complaining. I roll over on my stomach and peek over the edge of my bunk to look at Ace. Ducky's curled up next to her head and her hair is spread out all over her pillow. Her face is in peace and I can't help but feel relieved that she isn't stressing about this or that. I think about everything she told me last night. It's crazy to think that all that happened to her and here she is, still a fighter with everything in her.

Kloppman barges into the bunk room then, yelling his usual wakeup calls, "Up and at 'em, boys! The presses are hot! Newsies hit the street! Papes don't sell themselves!"  
Groaning in refusal, Ace rolls over and Ducky jumps off the bed in surprise. I laugh and Ace opens her eyes. "Mornin', Racetrack," she grumbles.  
"Good ta see youse, too, sunshine," I wink and she hides her face in her pillow, but not before I see her smile. "Aw, c'mon. Don'tcha know what today holds?"  
"Embarrassing myself in front of Spot and whoever else he brings with him?"  
"Youse ain't gonna embarrass yerself, Ace. And no, today's dat surprise I told youse 'bout." I hop off the bunk and head for the sinks, knowing she'll get ready in her own time. I look back and see she's headed towards her curtain to change.

"You two shoa stayed up late last night," Jack says at the sink next to me.  
"And?"  
"Just wonderin' what youse was doin', dat's all," he winks. I fling some shaving cream at him and duck Jack's arm in his response.  
"Fighting already?" Ace says, coming up behind us.  
"Mornin', Ace," Jack says, ignoring her question but tossing another wink in my direction.  
Ace tucks her hair into her cap, "Get your beauty sleep, Cowboy?"  
Jack smoothes back his hair with one hand and smiles, "Youse tell me."  
She squints her eyes as if closely observing him, then smirks and shakes her head, "Not working too well."  
He lightly shoves her shoulder and she laughs, pushing him away, before bending over the sink to wash her face.

I can't help but appreciate the way she pulls off the hand-me-down boy's clothes. Somehow they flattered her figure better than a dress did and I know she prefers them over her old dress.  
"Enjoying the view?" Ace asks, catching my staring and bumping me with her hip.  
I smirk, "As usual."  
She sticks her tongue out and dries her face with a towel I hand her. She smiles at me, "You ready?"  
I tug the brim of her cap down over her eyes, "More den youse."  
Ace laughs and elbows me, adjusting her cap, "Then let's go." She takes off after the rest of the newsboys as they leave the Lodging House, but I catch her wrist before she slips away.  
"Youse okay?" I ask, lowering my voice so only we can hear.  
Her brow knits in confusion but I can see in her eyes that she knows what I mean, "'Course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"  
I shrug, trying to blow off some of the looks the boys and Kloppman are giving us, "Reasons."  
Ace smiles and gives my hand a squeeze, "C'mon." She heads off again with me tow, only to stop, "Ducky." She picks up the kitten that's meowing and rubbing against her legs, "She's coming with us." Ace puts the kitten in my paper bag, "_Now_ we can go."

* * *

*Ace's POV*

We follow the rest of the newsies to _The World_ desk. Jack carries Crutchie on his back, despite Crutchie's refusals that he can walk on his own.  
"Take the life of luxury, Crutchie," I call to him.  
Crutchie smiles, "I been livin' like dis my whole life, Miss Ace. I don't need no luxury." He squirms on Jack's back and Jack finally gives in.  
"Alright, alright. I'll put youse down," Jack sets him back the ground and Crutchie smiles triumphantly.  
Race takes yet another cigar out of his pocket and sticks it in his mouth, "How 'bout youse put dat leg to use an' tell us da weather for today, eh? Gonna rain?"  
Crutchie stops walking and shakes his bad leg, "No rain. Ha! Partly cloudy, but dis evenin' seems clear."

The pause in his walk forces the other people around us to stop and walk around him, but one person doesn't pay attention and runs into him, causing both of them to fall down. I realize the stranger is a dark-skinned girl with a red newsboy cap on her head.  
"Watch where yer goin', kid!" the girl yells, getting up and brushing her clothes off.  
Jack steps in, helping Crutchie up but not taking his eyes off the girl, "Maybe _youse_ should watch yer step."  
"An' maybe _you_-" the girl pauses and seems to recognize Jack and the others, and vice versa. "Jack Kelly, good ta see youse," she spits in her hand. Jack does the same and they shake.  
She notices Crutchie behind Jack, "Sorry 'bout before. I was in a rush an' didn't see youse. I wouldn't have said dat if..." she trails off and we all know what she means, _If she knew Crutchie was a gimp_.  
Crutchie smiles and takes his cap off, "Don't worry 'bout it, miss. Happens all the time."  
Red cocks her head, "I don't remember youse in da strike."  
Crutchie shrugs, "I was in da Refuge."  
"Oh." A worried look comes across Red's face, "Youse is okay, ain'tcha?"  
A smile comes across Crutchie's face, "Just fine, miss."

"What're youse doin' in 'Hattan, Red?" Jack asks the girl, changing the subject.  
The girl- Red- shrugs and her messenger bag bounces, "Just pickin' up some papes. Brooklyn ran out and Spot sent me ta get some more."  
Red notices me then, "You the goily takin' on Spot tanight?"  
I hold my chin up, "Yes, I am."  
She smiles, "I'll be der."  
Crutchie lights up, "Youse will?"  
Red nods and smiles at his excitement, "Spot's bringin' me along." She turns to me, "One of his tactics or somethin', thinks youse'll misjudge him. But I'm not supposed ta tell youse dat."  
"Thanks for the heads up," I say a little confused as to why she's giving me tips.  
She shrugs, "I'm also not supposed to tell youse dat Spot cain't take his eyes off a pretty goil. Interpret dat as youse will," she winks. "I needa get back. See youse tanight," Red waves to the boys and I see her sneak a smile to Crutchie before heading back to Brooklyn.

I turn to Race, "You think I actually have a chance?"  
He smiles, "All my money's on youse."  
I smirk, "Let's hope not. Your money's what I'm trying to win back." Race gives me a little shove with his elbow.  
The rest of the group heads on in front of us. Jack has his arm around Crutchie's shoulders, obviously on guard so no one runs into him again. Some of the guys throw Crutchie winks and hoots about the obvious mutual interest between him and Red.  
I look up at Race as we fall behind the pack, "So what am I winning back exactly?"  
He shrugs, "It's a long story."  
"Well we've got from here to the nuns to Jacobi's. Plenty of time." I widen my eyes and stick my bottom lip out, "I told you mine."  
Race laughs at my expression, "Alright, alright. Put dat pretty face back ta normal. It ain't as long or excitin' as yers."  
I snort, "I hardly think mine's exciting."

Race sighs, "I was just a kid when my parents, my sista an' me hopped a ship an' came ta New York from Ireland.* We all got some kinda sickness on the ship. I got over it quickly, but da rest of my family didn't. In the end, I got off the ship alone and the only significant possession I had was my Pa's pocket watch. Some of the sisters from the nearby church found me an' took me in. I hung out with 'em a while an' helped 'em with givin' out food to the workin' kids. I saw some newsies on the street who seemed my age and the 'Hattan leader at that time recruited me to work with him- you know, since I was a cute kid and all, like Jack did with Les. And that was da beginnin' of my career."

Some of the newsboys call out as we near the nuns with their wagon of food. They're singing an old church hymn that I faintly recognize.  
Race gives the women a polite nod as he grabs rolls and coffee for us, "Thanks again, sistas."  
One of the nuns smiles down at Race as she hands Blink a roll, "Good to see you again, Anthony. Are you doing well?"  
I can see a faint blush at the use of his real name. I've never known his name until now and I try to hold back my smile. He catches my smirk and bumps me a bit before turning back to the sisters, "Yes. Thanks again."  
I wait until we let some other boys gain access to the free breakfast before laughing, "Anthony?"  
"Shut up," he says, half smiling at my amusement.  
"I like it," I laugh again, "Now what about the rest of your career?"

Race eats his bread as he speaks, "I got pretty comfortable after a while. The leader who took me in got too old ta be a newsie after a few years, so Jack took over. Bein' one of his best friends, I gained a few steps in the order of things around 'Hattan. Eventually I got kinda cocky and-"  
"What? You, cocky?" I ask, winking.  
"Eat yer breakfast," Race orders, smirking, before moving on. "I challenged ol' Spot to a card game. I'd picked up playing it around the Lodging House an' I became pretty good, so I thought I could take him on," he sighs and pauses for a second. "Long story short, I lost. Spot took everythin' in the pot, includin' my Pa's pocket watch." I look up at Race and can see some faraway feeling of sadness and betrayal in his eyes.  
"I'm gonna win back your watch." He looks at me and I nod, "I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like it! What do you think of Red? I wanted another girl to be in it, and Crutchie is too precious to not have a girl. ;)**

***: So I know that the Racetrack in the movie "Newsies" is Italian, but I'm using the Broadway Racetrack, played by Ryan Breslin. Just wanted to put that in there in case someone got confused. :)**

**Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

*Ace's POV*

"Just tell me where we're going!" I beg for the millionth time. I've been wondering about it all morning and neither Race nor the other boys would tell me.  
"Youse knows as well as I do's dat if I tell youse, youse'll hate me for ruinin' da surprise," Race explains and we both know he's got me beat.  
"Fine," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest as we walk to the secret destination, "I hope I like it then."  
"Youse will," Race smirks matter-of-factly.

A few blocks later, he suddenly stops walking.  
"What?" I ask. All I can see is an empty alley full of trashcans and laundry drying on a line.  
He presses a finger to his lips, "We're here." Race points to a side door on one of the buildings lining the alley. He opens the door and I step inside.  
"Is this a joke?" I gesture to a single staircase, the only thing inside the door.  
But all Race does is shush me and lead me up the stairs. "Just trust me," he ensures, "I knows what I'm doin'."  
We get to the third floor before I finally stop in front of him, "I swear, Racetrack, if all this is supposed to make me sweat then I'm leaving."  
Race laughs, "Will youse just shut up an' trust me? Youse'll like it."

We're soon in the attic of the building. The faint sound of a piano trickles up to us and I can hear the buzz of what sounds like a large crowd from below us.  
It hits me then, "Irving Hall?"  
Race winks and leads me to the rafters above the house. A catwalk hangs above the seating area. "The crew never uses it," Race explains, "Plus Medda likes ta see 'her boys' up here durin' shows."  
"Medda?" I ask, "_The_ Medda Larkin?"  
The lights dim as the show starts and Race smiles, "The one an' only." He sits on one of the beams of the rafters and pats the wood next to him. I join him and our feet dangle above the crowd.

The curtain goes up and the orchestra starts a song as three showgirls take the stage. They're dressed in bright pink corsets and a deep purple skirt with the front ending before the knees and slowly sloping down to the ankles in the back. I hear Race cough beside me at the sight of a girl's bare legs.  
"That's weird," Race says out of nowhere."  
"What?" I look across the stage and nothing seems to be out of place.  
Race shrugs, "Just normally there's four girls at this part."

The girls perform various songs and dances about finding love and losing it, all packed with innuendos.  
"Where's Medda?" I whisper to Race.  
"She comes out later," he explains, "Youse know, like a big finish. This is for people comin' in late so they don't miss the action."  
I glance over the audience below. Men continue to hoot and holler at the girls. "Well they sure know how to keep the men warmed up."  
Race laughs, "That's show biz."

Race lets out a yawn and stretches his arms up in the air. As he lowers his arms, one falls down his side and the other drapes across my shoulders.  
"What are you doing?" I eye his arm lazily hanging around me.  
"Quiet down," he smirks, "there's a show goin' on."  
I roll my eyes and do my best at hiding a smile, "You are impossible, Racetrack Higgins." Despite my words, I settle against him.  
"Shh," he whispers, "here she comes."

The three girls exit and with a quick set change, the band starts up a fast waltz for what I assume is Medda's entrance. From stage right enters a curvaceous, red-headed lady clad in a similar dress as the three girls from before, but only with more sequins, a lower cut neckline, and a higher hem above the knees. She carries a large fan of pink and purple feathers and smiles flirtatiously at the crowd.  
"Medda," I whisper as I take her in. I think she looks beautiful. She's the prime example of what my mother would call a floozy. It's what I've dreamed of my whole life.  
And then she sings. Her voice is incredible. I can finally understand why the papers dubbed her as the "Swedish meadowlark."  
I sigh and relax into Race's arm as Medda continues with her set.

"You like it?" Race whispers in my ear.  
"Love it," I reply, turning towards him. Suddenly our face are very close, inches away even. My breath catches as Medda finishes her performance and the audience applauds.  
"Thought so," Race's breath is warm on my face. I fight the urge to flutter my eyelashes like Mother taught me when I was courting, but my heart and stomach both do flips.

The moment is broken as I hear myself say, "We should go." I pull away from Race and mentally slap myself for ruining it. _Wait, what? No, we're not like that._  
There is clear disappointment on Race's face as he stands and helps me up. "Youse ready for one more surprise?" he asks with a smirk.  
I give him a disbelieving look, "You serious? There's more?"  
"Ever wanna meet a showgoil?" Before I can reply, Race takes my hand and leads me back down the multiple stairs we had climbed only a few hours ago.

We weave through the crowd downstairs and find a back hallway leading toward the backstage area. Race nods at the doorman, who guards the access backstage. The doorman recognizes Race and nods back, letting us through.  
"Race, I don't know about this," I nervously tell him.  
He looks at me, "What'sa matter?  
"What if she doesn't like me?" I set out of the way of a crew member wheeling a rack of costumes.  
His brow wrinkles together, "Youse kiddin'? Who wouldn't like youse?"  
I snort, "Well I can think of a few..."  
Race rolls his eyes, "Medda ain't like dat. She'll love youse."

"Who am I going to love?" a European voice from behind asks us. We turn and there she is, Medda, still in her show dress and beaming at Race. She holds her arms out for a hug, "C'mere, kid."  
"Medda, good ta see youse," Race greets her.  
She waves her fan of feathers in his face, "I thought I saw someone up in the rafters. You know you can come down to the house."  
Race shrugs, "I like da bird's eye view."  
Medda notices me behind Race, "And who is this?"  
Race pulls me forward, "This is my... uh..." he pauses as he looks for something to call me. I'm reminded of the brief moment in the rafters.  
"I'm Ace," I cover for him, sticking out my hand, "Pleased to meet you."  
"And I'm very pleased to meet you," Medda smiles and shakes my hand. I catch a whiff of her perfume and I'm suddenly conscious that I haven't bathed in a while. I make a mental note to make that a priority when we get back to the Lodging House.

Race nudges me. "Ace has been dyin' ta meet youse," he tells Medda.  
Medda laughs, "Is that so?"  
"I mean..." I mumble. My face quickly heats up.  
"She's also a singer," Race informs her, "Always wanted to be a showgoil."  
Medda speaks before I have the chance, "Really? You ever sing for a crowd?"  
I'm so shocked that the only thing I can do is tell the truth, "No. Never."  
She purses her lips and thinks it over, "Well we might as well give you a listen. One of my girls got married so I'm down a singer."  
"That's why there was only three!" Race realizes, making a connection with his observation during the show.  
"I couldn't though," I interject, finally finding my voice.  
Medda shrugs, "Who says you can't? No harm in trying." She gives me another smile, "I'm going to change and I'll have a piano ready." She runs off to her dressing room, leaving Race and I alone backstage.

I turn to Race and hit his arm, "What the hell?!"  
He rubs the spot where I hit him, "What's got youse?"  
"I can't sing for Medda Larkin!" I yell. A few crew members give us weird looks.  
Race gives me a mock lock of offense, "Well I ain't never heard youse sing. Youse wanna be a showgoil? This is your _chance_, Ace."  
I cross my arms over my chest, "Have you had this planned the whole time?"  
"Maybe," Race smirks, "And what's so wrong with dat?"  
I look away, "A little forewarning would have been nice."  
"Look," he lowers his voice and puts either hand on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze, "I don't like arguin' wit youse. It's yer decision. Say the word an' we'll go."

Medda comes back then, "All ready?"  
I look over Race's face and I can see he really wants me to do this. I sigh, "Yup." Race smiles and gives my shoulders another squeeze before I follow Medda onto the stage where a piano waits.  
"What would you like to sing, dearie?" Medda asks me, sitting at the piano bench.  
"Isn't there one _you_ want me to sing?"  
Medda shrugs and shakes her head, "You can pick whatever you like. You're the one singing."  
I rack my brain for something, "There's this one I sometimes heard the cook sing at home."  
She gives me a confident smile, "Go right ahead. I'll follow along."

I nervously exhale and see Race out of the corner of my eye. He's standing in the wings of the stage and gives me a thumbs-up. I begin and Medda soon follows along, picking up the melody, "_Oh, I got a gal and she is a daisy._  
_Got all the boys in our town plumb crazy._  
_With your sticks and your stones_  
_you can break all my bones,_  
_say what you want about me when I'm gone._  
_I'm gonna live every day until I tee idle dum dum die!_"*

I pause, "That's all I can remember."  
Medda nods, "That's all I need to hear."  
I'm not entirely sure what she means, so I slowly make my way over to Race in the wings, "Alright well... thank you for your time."  
"Ace?" Medda calls.  
I stop and turn back, "Yes?"  
"You have a lovely voice," she smiles, "Rehearsal's at two tomorrow afternoon. I look forward to seeing you there."  
My heart stops and my face breaks out into a grin, "Okay. Thank you."

Race beams at me from the wings, "Who woulda thought. Youse sing like a little canary."  
"I think I just got cast," I whisper in disbelief.  
He laughs, "She'd be crazy not ta cast youse after that!"  
I giggle, "I wasn't that great."  
"Right," he puts an arm around my shoulders and we head out the door.

The sun is setting now as we head back towards the Lodging House. We walk in silence and Race lights a cigar. Normally he doesn't smoke when I'm around, but I let him get away with it this time.  
When the Lodging House is in sight, I sigh, knowing what the rest of the night holds, "Now there's only to beat Spot and I'd consider this day successful."  
Race inhales on his cigar, "Youse'll beat him. Stop worryin' 'bout it." He puffs the smoke out in rings and holds the cigar out to me, "Here. For good luck."  
"What?" I ask, then shake my head, "No. I never have."  
He persists, "C'mon. Just one try." I shake my head and swat it away. Race smirks, "Oh, I get it now."  
I raise an eyebrow, "You get what?"  
He shrugs, taking another inhale, "I just thought youse was tough, is all. Guess I was wrong."

I sense his challenge and grab the cigar from his hand. I raise it to my lips and inhale. The fumes instantly go down my throat and burn the whole way. My eyes water and I cough, dropping the cigar on the sidewalk.  
Race tries to hold a straight face, but he ultimately fails, laughing as I gasp for air.  
"It ain't funny!" I yell at him between coughs.  
He composes himself, "Sure, it ain't." Race wipes a tear from his eye and I push him, stomping up the steps to the House. Race whines after me, "Aw, c'mon, Ace. It ain't that bad. Youse was just doin' it wrong."  
I throw my hat at him and storm past Jack, who had come out the door after hearing the commotion.  
Before going upstairs, I hear Jack ask Race, "What's her problem?"  
Race is still laughing, "Girls can't smoke."  
Jack snorts, "Women."

I sit on my bed in the bunk room while the boys stay downstairs, anticipating Spot's arrival. Someone had brought Ducky home from Jacobi's and she now lays in my lap. I pet her, trying to get a peace of mind before the game tonight. There's still a slight burn in my throat from the smoke and coughing. My face burns from the embarrassment of not doing it right. I don't know what had come over me, but I wanted to impress Race.  
The sound of footsteps brings me from my thoughts. Race motions to the space next to me, "Mind if I sit?" I shrug and he joins me, "Sorry for laughin' at youse."  
"I should've known better. Girls don't smoke," I quote my mother with that one.  
Race smiles, obviously trying to lighten the tension, "An' thank goodness for that. 'Else dey wouldn't be so pretty." He sighs, "What's the matter, Ace? Lemme see that smile."  
"I don't like fighting with you," I say quietly, "and we did a lot of that today."  
He seems taken by surprise but I can see he understands, "I don't like fightin' wit youse either. Hate it, actually." Race puts a hand over mine on Ducky's fur, "Look at me?"  
I do as he says and once again our faces are extremely close. "Next time we don't get along," Race starts, "let's just stop. Okay? Just stop whatever we're doin' an' walk in separate directions 'til we get over it. Okay?"  
"Okay," I whisper and give him a small smile.

"There's that smile," Race says, "Anything else on yer mind?"  
"The game tonight," I explain, "I can take playing Spot Conlon. Sure, that's fine. But having to win to get back your family's money? And your father's pocket watch?" I shake my head, "Not so fine."  
Race looks me squarely in the eye, "Look, Ace. Youse is the best player I know. I've only seen youse play once but that's enough for me ta know that youse can handle yerself. Don't think 'bout what yer gonna win. Just focus on playin' the best that youse can. Youse'll win. I believe in youse."  
"Really?" I breathe out.  
He nods, "Really, really."

We jump as a knock on the door downstairs echoes throughout the Lodging House. The commotion from the boys quiets down.  
Race looks at me, "Brooklyn's here."

* * *

**A/N: I'm just whipping these out! I'm seriously so excited for the next few chapters. So many good things to come. ;) ****I'm not too entirely happy with the way this chapter is written, but oh well. You get the idea of it. :)**

***The song is a 19th century barbershop melody. I don't take credit for it at all. If you want to hear what it sounds like, check out Julien Neel's cover of it on YouTube. The title is "Tee Idle Dum Dum." I just thought it was really cute and I wanted to put it in here somehow.**

**Let me know what you think please! Don't forget to review! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

*Ace's POV*

We jump as a knock on the door downstairs echoes throughout the Lodging House. The commotion from the boys in the main room quiets down and someone opens the door. The usual insults are thrown out between the two boroughs.  
Race looks at me, "Brooklyn's here."  
Jack peeks his head into the bunk room, "Youse ready?"  
I sigh, "As I'll ever be."

We both stand up and head downstairs, Ducky following us the whole way. Race suddenly stops and turns, "I gots an idea."  
I smirk, "Oh no, you've been thinking."  
"Shut up," he reaches for the top button of my shirt.  
I swat his hand away, "What exactly do you think you're doing?"  
He ignores my slap and unfastens the first two buttons, "Red says Spot can't take his eyes off a pretty goil. This'll help youse out."  
I go to hit him again, but stop myself when I realize the slight advantage. "Alright. How do I look?"  
Race acts as if he's closely inspecting me before finally nodding, "Youse look great, dollface." He winks and, almost as an after thought, adds in, "And for good luck..." He leans over and kisses my cheek.

My face burns as we go downstairs. I pray that the red in my cheeks doesn't look too bad, but by Jack's curious expression, it's obvious I'm flustered.  
"Youse alright there, Ace?" Jack asks.  
"Just peachy, Cowboy," I give him a reassuring smile but he doesn't buy it. Race lets out a short laugh at seeing my blush.  
Jack looks between the two of us, "What's ol' Racetrack done now?"  
"Don't worry about it," I pull Race's hat down over his eyes, "Now where's Brooklyn?"  
"In the basement," Jack says, "waitin' on youse two."  
"Well then we best not keep him waiting any longer," I head for the basement with Race and Jack following me.

Everyone is crowded around the card table. Two chairs are positioned opposite each other. Spot's sitting at the card table with Red to one side of him. The Manhattan boys, even David and Les, stand at the other end of the table. They all turn when the three of us join them. Spot stands when we get down there and comes over to us.  
"Good ta see youse again, Spot," Jack spits in his hand.  
"Same ta youse, Jackie boy," Spot does the same and they shake. Spot turns to me then, "Hello again."  
"Same to you," I smirk as Spot's gaze drifts to my shirt, "Eyes up here, Conlon."  
Spot, ignoring my comment, gestures to the card table, "Ladies foist."

I smirk and take a seat, "Who's got the cards?"  
Jack holds up a pack, "Manhattan supplies, Brooklyn deals." He motions to Red and she steps forward, taking the cards from Jack.  
"First thing's first," she says almost bored-like, "what youse got ta deal?"  
I reach up and unfasten my barrette, shaking out my blonde hair from the bun on top of my head, "How's this?" I place the barrette on the table and everyone leans in to inspect it.  
Spot nods, "Fair enough." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a palm-sized golden pocket watch with a long chain.  
I glance at Race to see if that's the right one. He nods and gives me a slight smile. Red deals the cards one by one until the two of us each have five cards.

Spot looks at his cards then to me, "Dis is yer last chance ta back out, sugar."  
"Shut your trap, Conlon," I keep my face straight, "and play." Some of the boys laugh and even Red lets out a smile.  
A slightly amused look comes across Spot's face, but he covers it by narrowing his eyes, "No one tells Spot Conlon to shut up."  
I raise an eyebrow, "I believe I just did."  
A chorus of "oohs" and "youse tell him, Ace!" rings through the recreation room, but those are the last words said throughout the game.

We play for what seems like hours when I'm sure it was really only half of one. Hardly anyone speaks or moves during the game. Race sits behind me, nervously bouncing a knee up and down or fiddling with a cigar. I catch Crutchie and Red making faces at each other. I do my best to ignore everything and focus on only the cards in front of me.  
I glance at Spot. He sighs, "Ready to reveal?"  
"Guests first," I keep a straight face.  
Spot smirks and lays his hand down. I lean forward to observe it, as does the rest of the room. A straight flush, starting with a king, lies before me.  
"Shit," Race mutters behind me, knowing full well that a king flush is hard to achieve, let alone beat.  
"Well Spot," my face falls as I examine my cards one last time, "you may have actually beat me. But they don't call me Ace for nothing." I lay down my hand, revealing a royal flush, one step above Spot's hand.

A cheer goes up as everyone realizes I've beat Spot. Crutchie applauds me before joining Red, who's smiling at my win, on the other side of the room.  
Jack pats me on the back, "Always good ta have youse around."  
I grab my barrette and the pocket watch off the table and turn to face Race behind me. He's grinning ear-to-ear and cheering along with the others.  
Then in what could only be spurred on by adrenaline and victory, his hands cup my face and he kisses me full on the mouth. We stay there for only a few moments before the rest of the room notices and all falls silent. We both pull away as we realize what's happening. Race's face is bright red and my eyes are wide.

Red looks around before finally nudging Spot and winking, "Looks like youse ain't the king of New York no more."

* * *

I sit in the shadows of the Lodging House stairs, exhausted from the game and holding a coke from Kloppman's not-so-secret ice box. The boys downstairs still whoop and holler at my win, even though they've all moved onto their own card or dartboard games. I chuckle at their ongoing excitement and push my hair back, thinking over what happened right after I won.

Someone coughs and I see that Spot's standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands dug deep in his pockets, "Mind if I join youse?"  
I shrug, "I still can't believe you actually want to talk to me. Isn't a tough guy like you supposed to be ashamed he lost to a girl?"  
Spot laughs and sits next to me, "Eh, I ain't no sore loser. Plus, youse play good. Youse got one hell of a poker face, I'll gives youse that."  
"Thanks?" I say more like a question than an actual statement, "You don't play too bad yourself. So are we good? No hard feelings?"  
Spot waves it off, "None at all."

A laugh from around the corner interrupts us and we quiet down. Crutchie and Red emerge from the basement with their arms linked.  
Spot stands and says goodbye to me before heading towards the bottom of the stairs, "Ready ta head back, Red?"  
She nods, "Yeah. Gimme one sec though." Spot tips his hat to Crutchie and heads out the door.  
Crutchie walks Red to the door, "I'm glad youse came tanight, Miss Red," he shyly says, looking down at his feet but stealing glances up at her.  
Red smiles, "I'm glad I did, too. Good night, Crutchie."  
"Sweet dreams, Miss Red," Crutchie whispers. As an afterthought, he leans into her and places a chaste kiss on her cheek.

A grinning newsgirl quickly says goodnight to me and heads out the door behind Spot.  
"Smooth," I compliment Crutchie.  
He grins, "I took the cue from Race."  
I let out a weak smile, "Yeah."  
Crutchie raises an eyebrow, "Youse okay?"  
I nod a little too fast, "Just peachy."  
"Hey," Crutchie quietly says, "don't be too hard on him. He'll kill me if he knew I was sayin' this but," he looks towards the basement where the rest of the boys are, "he really likes youse."  
I laugh, "Thanks Crutchie. Now go have some fun."  
He limps off and joins the others, leaving me alone once again.

Race kissed me, that much I knew. I don't know if it was purely out of the rush and it was only a spur-of-the-moment kind of deal, or if Race had actually kissed me because of reasons I couldn't explain.

"Hey stranger," I hear someone say and I look up. Race walks up to the step I'm sitting on and sits where Spot was just a few minutes ago.  
"Hey," I say.  
"Youse sure bolted outta there fast," Race notes and looks at me out the corner of his eye.  
I sigh, cutting right to the chase, "I can't believe you kissed me like that."  
"Yeah, neither can I," he mutters, "Youse embarrassed?"  
I let out a small laugh, "Only a little."  
Race smirks, "So you didn't like it?"  
I eye him and fail at holding back a smile, "I never said that."  
"So youse _did_ like it," he puts his face closer to mine.  
"I never said that either," I say a little too breathy for my liking.  
"Well then maybe we should sort it out for youse," Race quietly says before leaning in.

I can't help it; I meet him halfway. I instinctively close my eyes, leaning into it and kissing him back. He tastes like alcohol and tobacco, but nothing like the alcohol and tobacco taste Oscar was. _No, don't think about that_, I push all thoughts of anything else but Race out of my head.  
After a few seconds, I pull away and subtly smile, "I definitely think I liked it."

* * *

**A/N: My favorite chapter by far. I can't even handle it. FIRST KISS YEEEAH! Wow. Okay.**

**SOOOOO please review this. I would greatly appreciate it.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

*Ace's POV*

"Well, well, well," we hear a voice say, "What do we got here?"  
Race and I turn to see Jack, David, and Crutchie all watching us.  
My cheeks turn red immediately. "N-n-nothing," I manage to stammer out.  
Jack smirks, "Right. Nothing. Just the two of youse smoochin'."  
Race puts his arm around my waist, not helping my ever-increasing blush, "Yeah. So what if we'se was? It ain't like we'se don't catch youse and Sarah doin' the same thing." David winces as he's reminded that his sister and Jack are together.  
Jack smiles and waves it off, "Ah, I been rootin' for youse two so I ain't upset."

I raise an eyebrow to Crutchie, wanting to change the subject, "And what about you and Red? You sure hit it off well."  
Crutchie looks down and shuffles his feet, but I can still see a smile on his face. He shrugs, "Ah, I don't know..."  
"Youse kiddin'?" Race joins in, winking at Crutchie, "The goil couldn't take her eyes offa youse."  
Crutchie looks up, "Really?"  
Race nods, "Really, really."

There's a pause in the conversation so I take the opportunity to change the subject. I stand and brush my clothes off, "Well I'm off to bed. Night fellas."  
"Night Ace," the boys all say.  
I pull Race's pocket watch out of the pocket in my pants and place it in Race's hands, unable to keep a small smile off my face, "Night Race."  
He gives me a subtle wink, "Good game tanight."

I head upstairs and to the sinks. Washing my face, I remember meeting Medda and all her clean beauty. The mental aside I made about bathing when I got home comes to mind. I glance around the bunkroom; it is empty save for myself and Ducky sleeping on my bed. All the boys are downstairs and no one seemed like he'd be coming up anytime soon.  
There's a wash tub at the end of the sink counter and a water pump stands above it, ready to be used. I pump the handle up and down and soon enough my arms grow tired. I examine the cloudy water; it's defintely not clean, but it's better than nothing. I pull the full tub towards a storage closet- there was no way I'd bathe out in the open bunkroom. Grabbing a towel, comb, scrub brush, and a bar of soap, I shut the closet door behind me and lock it.

The water is freezing when I finally undress and step in. I should have figured as much though, with the late autumn weather and cheap accomodations at the Lodging House. I slowly exhale and shiver as I plunge all the way into the water, letting it soak into my skin and hair. I stay under the water for a few moments until my breath runs out. I scrub the dirt and grime off my body. Pretty soon the water turns a light brown color and I step out of the tub, wrapping myself in the towel. Combing through my hair, I allow myself to focus on the one thing that's been in the back of my mind all night: Race.

The kiss meant nothing, I keep telling myself. The first one was simply adrenaline. He wasn't thinking, he was just excited. The second one... well half of that was on my part. But I couldn't help noticing a satisfied smile on his face when we pulled away, as if he'd been waiting to do it.  
_No, stop. He wasn't waiting to do it because there's nothing there._  
Then why am I thinking all of this through? And why did I like it so much?  
_Woah, hold it. You did not like it._  
But the butterflies in my stomach and the slight smile on myself tell otherwise.

All this arguing with myself is giving me a headache. I quickly braid my hair and get dressed, pushing all thoughts out of my head except to get to bed. I get my knickers and camisole on, but stop short. I didn't bring my long johns to sleep in and the last thing I wanted to wear was my beyond-filthy boy outfit, especially after I had just bathed. But what if the boys see me in just my underwear? I sigh, _Guess I'll have to run._  
I peek out of the closet. Judging by the lack of lights and heavy amount of snores coming from the bunk room, the boys are asleep. I give a sigh of relief, _maybe no one will see me_.

Running on the balls of my feet, I make a mad dash for my bed. I'm greeted with hoots and hollers as the boys catch me clad only in my camisole and knickers.  
"Lookin' good, girly!" Mush winks.  
Specs joins in, "Youse been hidin' all dat?!"  
Kid Blink lifts up his eyepatch, "What a dame!"  
After what seems like an eternity, I finally make it to my bed and huddle under the covers next to Ducky, who's fast asleep on my pillow. The boys continue to whistle at me until a voice from the bunk above mine yells out, "Quiet down, ya bums! Give the lady some space!" The rooms falls silent rather quickly and Race peeks down at me.  
"Thanks," I whisper.  
"Anytime," he wrinkles his eyebrows with an amused look, "Where's yer clothes?"  
"Are you complaining?" I counter.  
Race winks, "Not at all."  
"Thought so," I laugh, "Now go to sleep."  
"Youse too, ya dame," Race says with a wink before turning back to his bed. I kick the wooden frame above me and we burst out laughing.  
"Quiet down, ya lovebirds!" we hear Jack order from the next bunk over. I giggle one last time before finally quieting down and snuggling up to Ducky, who's moved against my chest, ready for a good night's sleep.

* * *

_The first thing I understand is that it's cold. Snow is on the ground and my breath is visible. It's also dark and I'm outside. I don't know where I am, but at the same time the scene is familiar. My arms go around myself in an attempt to keep warm, and I realize I'm in the dark green gown I wore to the Christmas party so long ago._  
_"You can't keep runnin', girly."_  
_"We'll find ya."_  
_I gasp and turn at the sound of two voices, both familiar and yet unknown. They're near, but where exactly I can't tell. The crack of a whip echoes throughout the snowy dark night and a something slashes across my shoulders. I cry out in pain but hold my ground. I look for the source of the sound and pain, but before I find something it hits again. Twice more and I crumple to the ground. The pain is unbearable._  
_"You should've listened to us."_  
_"We always get what we want."_  
_"No," I cry out but I don't allow any tears to fall. Not in front of them._  
_"We'll find ya," they repeat._

* * *

*Race's POV*

"NO!" someone in the bunk room yells out. There's a bump on the bottom of my bunk and I sit up, confused.  
The bunkroom is dark and heavy snores fill the space. I wait a few moments, maybe it was just a dream. People talk in their sleep all the time. Just before I go to lay back down, I hear a quiet sqeak as if someone's choking back sobs. I realize it's coming from below me and I peek over the edge of my bunk to look down, "Ace?"  
Her legs are pulled to her chest and her face is buried into her knees. She rubs her head and I assume that was the hit on my bunk. Ducky sits at her feet, watching her with a worried look.  
"Ace?" I repeat, sliding off my bunk and sitting at the edge of hers. My hand touches her knee and jumps. Ace looks up and a wave of relief crosses over her face when she realizes it's me. "What'sa matter?" I ask.  
She sighs and straightens her legs, trying to subtly wipe her eyes, "Nothing. Just a dream. Go back to bed."  
I shake my head, "Not 'til I knows youse is okay."  
Ace tries to hold my gaze, but soon her face falls and she looks like she'll cry again, "They're after me."  
"Who?" I ask even though I have a feeling I already know.  
"They're gonna find me," she bites her lip and I can barely hear her next words, "and I'm scared." Ace hides her face in her hands and I hear a sob. I pull her in, stroking her hair and patting her back. Her arms go around my torso and she buries her head in the crook of my neck.

We stay like that a little while longer until I feel her quiet down and finally relax. I pull away and glance over her face, "Youse okay now?"  
She nods, "Yeah."  
"Okay," I squeeze her hand and start to go back up to my bunk.  
Ace catches my wrist, "Wait." I turn and she bites her lip again, "Stay with me? I-I don't want it to come back."  
It's my instinct to say no- I couldn't be in the same bed with her- but then I see how exhausted and sad she looks. There's fear in her eyes and she just wants comfort.  
I give her a slight smile a nod, "Okay."

Ace gives me a pitiful smile and moves over, making room for me next to her. The only possible way for us to both sleep comfortably is with my arm around her and my chest pressed into her back.  
"Night, Race," she whispers.  
"Sweet dreams, Ace," I say back.  
After a few silent moments, I remember Ace's words from earlier, _"They're after me. They're gonna find me... and I'm scared."_ I find myself mumbling into her hair, "No one's gonna find youse. Youse is safe here." My arm tightens around her waist, "Right here."

* * *

*Ace's POV*

I'm aware of a gentle weight around my waist. I blink my eyes in the early morning sunlight and I groan at the fact that it's already morning. Something behind shifts the bed and I turn my head to see Race, watching me with a slight smile.  
"Morning," he yawns.  
I smile, "Thanks for staying last night."  
He winks, "My pleasure, doll face."  
I look around the bunk room. Some boys are at the sinks, but most of them are still asleep. "We should get up before they see us."  
"Good thinkin'." Race gets up and I grab my clothes, hurrying behind my curtain before any of the boys can see me still dressed in my knickers and camisole.

I come out a few minutes later, fully dressed, and the rest of the boys are getting up now. I notice Jack leaning against the beams of my bunk, arms crossed and a curious look on his face.  
"Morning, Cowboy," I casually say, hoping he didn't see Race and me. I bend down, grabbing my cap and hiding my guilty face.  
"Same to youse," he copies me in bending down and joins me at eye level, "How'd youse sleep?"  
I hold his gaze, "A little rough at first, but it sorted itself out."  
"Mhmm," he mumbles, not moving.  
I subtly shake my head, "Nothing happened."  
Jack winks, "Whateva youse says."  
I roll my eyes even though I know he's just joking, "Go wash your face, Jack. You've got some smug you need to wipe off."  
He musses my hair, "Only 'cause youse asked nicely." Jack goes off and joins the rest of the boys at the sinks.

I notice Race at the sink next to Jack's. He's busy shaving the little stubble on his chin. A cigar sits behind his ear and his hair is still messed from sleep. Even though it's chilly outside, his sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. His arms are lean and muscular, as is the rest of him, from years of lifting heavy papers and street fights with other boys. Race sticks the cigar in his mouth then, and I notice how his lips are somewhat tinted from the ash and smoke of the cigar. I'm reminded of the kiss and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling, _Because we're just friends._

Race catches my eye then and I know he's caught me checking him out. He winks as if he knows what I'm thinking about. I come out of my thoughts and smile back, finally heading over to the sinks to finish getting ready. I catch my reflection in the mirror, _Look at yourself. You're falling for your best friend._

* * *

**A/N: So so sorry for the long wait for this! I've been super busy and loaded down with my school's huge Christmas choir concert. I'm in one of the top choirs so I've got a lot on my plate right now, but that ends this weekend. I just wanted to get out a chapter for you all to hopefully hold you over. :) Please review!**

**Also a HUGE thank you to the people who have been following/favoriting/reviewing this. I can't thank you enough for your support. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

*Ace's POV*

"C'mon, Race! I'm gonna be late!" I yell back to Race as we weave through the crowd. My rehearsal with Medda is at two and by glancing at the clock on City Hall, I have a little more than five minutes to get there.  
"Calm down, Ace. Youse is gonna be just fine," Race calmly says behind me.  
"Since when are you so calm?" I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.  
He smirks, "I ain't got nowhere ta be."  
"Yeah well _I_ do," I huff, grabbing his hand and pulling him faster through the crowd.

People give us dirty look as we push past them. Even though I know I should be used to it now, I can't help but feel out of place when I'm thought of as a "street rat." I shake my head, _You've been on that other side. And you hated it._ I sigh and push it out of my head, focusing only on what I'll be doing in this rehearsal. I'm a chorus girl, right? So I'll be with the other three I saw yesterday. _I hope they like me._

"Youse okay?" Race asks, taking in my facial expressions at my various thoughts.  
I nod, "Yeah. Just thinking."  
"Don't worry 'bout it. Youse'll do fine." He gives a reassuring smile as if he knows what I was thinking about, "And if youse don't, youse can always sell the papes."  
I laugh, "You know as well as I do that I can't hawk."  
Race shrugs, "With practice, youse could. Ya'd learn from the best."  
"The best being Jack?" I wink.  
"Fine, second best."  
I knit my brows together, "Crutchie?"  
Race bumps me a bit, "Youse keep that up and I'll start tellin' folks that Spot's the one wit the best poker face."  
I laugh, "Whatever you say." I look down and realize that I'm still holding his hand. I notice the differences between our hands: mine are dainty and smooth, his calloused and stained with newspaper ink. I smile a bit, liking the contrast.

We see Irving Hall on the next block and I know for sure I'm late now. I sigh, "Better late than never." I take the cap off my head and let my hair fall down, pinning half of it back with my barrette.  
Race smiles a bit, "I like yer hair like that."  
I bite my lip, holding back a blush. "I'll be back at the House when rehearsal's done."  
"I'll be here."  
"You don't have to wait for me."  
Race shrugs, "I don't like the thought of youse walkin' 'round alone. I'll be here," he repeats.  
"I can handle myself," I mutter and look at the building, "Well I better get going. First impressions _are_ everything."  
He winks, "Knock 'em dead."

I head inside Irving Hall and I can hear the piano music already. I follow it to the stage. Medda, the three chorus girls, and a piano player crowd around a grand piano. The girls are practicing a song while Medda listens on, critiquing it as needed. Medda spots me to the side of the stage and she cuts off the music, excitedly waving me over.  
"I'm so sorry I'm late," I rush as an apology.  
Medda brushes it off, "No worries, dearie." She puts an arm around my shoudlers and presents me to the others, "Ladies and gentleman, I'm pleased to introduce our lovely new Bowery Beauty, Miss Ace."  
They offer small waves and hellos. The girls look me up and down, clearly confused as to why I'm dressed as a boy. I notice their fine dresses and curly hair and suddenly I feel like a street rat again.  
"Can you read music?" Medda asks as she hands me a piece of music.  
"I learned a long time ago but it's been years," I say, glancing at the music in my hands.

Medda and the man at the piano quickly teach me my part and pretty soon the other girls join in, creating a four part harmony. I stumble though some parts though, still unsure of what notes I'm supposed to be singing. But after running through it enough times, I get the hang of it. After many run-throughs of the songs, Medda dismisses the rehearsal.  
"Wonderful job, everyone!" Medda says, applauding the small group of us, "I know it was rough without Mary Ann for a while, but with Miss Ace here, I know we'll pull through."  
I gather the few pieces of music Medda gave to me, _Here's hoping I'll remember this in the morning._ I head towards the front of the building where I know Race will be.

And just like I thought, he's there. Race is sitting on the front steps, looking out at the evening crowd and smoking a cigar.  
He sees me and stands up immediately, putting out his cigar, "How'd it go?"  
I shrug, "Alright, I guess. I didn't know what to expect, so I can't say much. Medda likes me, though."  
"Medda likes everyone," he says matter-of-factly.  
I laugh, "And your day?"  
Race winces, "Eh, went back to Sheepshead. Bet on what I thought sounded like a fast horse."  
"Was it?" He gives me a look that tells me "no" and I laugh again, "You'll win sometime."

We continue on like that for the majority of the walk, catching up on the day and just talking. Ever since last night, I'm starting to notice little things about Race that I never had before. He shoves his hands in his pockets except to occasionally toy with the cigar behind his ear or tug his cap on tighter. There's a light swing in his step that I have to keep up with. His voice has a slight rasp to it from years of shouting out headlines, smoking, and just being a loud mouth.

The Lodging House is a few blocks away when Race stops me. He stands in front of me, arms out as if to block something headed our way.  
"What?" I ask quietly.  
Race puts a finger to his lips and waits a moment, "Heard somethin'."  
I bite my lip and listen with him. Race's jaw is set and his head slowly turns in all directions, watching the empty streets. After a few minutes, he lowers his arms but his shoulders are still tense, "Put yer cap on."  
I do as he says, tucking my hair inside. We walk again, this time with a faster pace. I hear it now: footsteps, about a half block away. Race grabs my hand and pulls me into a nearby alley.  
"Get down," he says and I duck behind a trash can in the shadows. Race heads back to the sidewalk and casually leans against the brick buildings, sticking his cigar in his mouth.  
"What are you-" I begin to ask but he shushes me. The footsteps are closer now and I realize there's two sets of them. I'm supposed to stay quiet but my heart is beating so fast and hard that I'm sure it'll give me away.

The footsteps stop and someone calls out, "What's old Racetrack doing out at a time like this?"  
My already-slamming heart goes up into my throat as I realize who it is.  
Race keeps his head low, "None a'yer business, Oscar."

* * *

**A/N: WOW I was not planning on ending this chapter like this, but I like it more than what I originally planned. It's not as long as I would like, but it's better than nothing. Sorry for the long waits recently. Finals start today and I'm procrastinating my studying as much as I can. Hope you like it!**

**REVIEW. :)**  
**Please?**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

*Ace's POV*

The Delancey's come into my view then, even though I'm still hidden in the alley. Race gives Oscar and Morris a bored look, clearly uninterested in what they have to say. "I didn't know the rats came out this early."  
Morris glares, "You wanna repeat that?"  
Race raises an eyebrow, "Did I stutter? Shoot, I knew youse was dumb, but I didn't think youse was deaf, too."  
"Don't make us mess up your pretty face," Oscar says, coming threateningly close to Race, "Ain't you got a girl to keep around?"  
Race takes a step closer to Oscar and shoves Morris' hand off his shirt, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Why do youse care?"  
"Just wanted to check in with the man himself," Oscar glances towards Morris, who moves behind Race. Oscar continues, "Word on the street is, we know her."  
Race scoffs, "What kinda nice lady would put herself wit' the likes a'youse?"  
Morris smirks, "The same lady who runs off with street rats like you."  
"And what's it to youse what she does?" Race asks.  
Oscar glances towards the alley as if he knows I'm there, then back to Race, "Just thought we'd warn you. I wouldn't trust her, the lying tramp."  
Race grabs Oscar's shirt, "Say that one more time."  
Oscar sneers, "She's a _tramp_. A _floozy_. A _liar_."

He hardly finishes the last word when Race's fist meets his mouth. Morris throws his arms around Race's neck in a strangle hold as Oscar hits back. Race manages to throw Morris off his back and Morris smacks into the brick building behind him. Oscar delivers another blow to Race's jaw. Race punches Oscar's stomach and they both go down. I see Morris pull something out of his pocket and in the dim moonlight, I realize it's a switchblade. Morris towers over the other two on the ground, aiming the blade towards Race.

"NO!" I find myself yelling out and leaping towards Morris, hurling him to the ground and knocking the weapon out of his hands. "Don't touch him!"  
Race and Oscar pause for a moment. Race gives me an incredulous look and, seeing his opportunity, Oscar kicks him in the stomach and Race collapses. Oscar throws the weary boy off him and smirks, "You again, girly? We were just talking about you."  
"The name's Ace," I tell him through my teeth, "And it's about damn time you learn that."  
Morris fetches the switchblade and comes up behind me, ultimately trapping me between him and his brother. "What happened to the little floozy we had back home? I liked her better." He grabs the back of my head and Oscar grabs my shoulders. They pin me against the brick. I struggle against their grip but they only hold me tighter.  
Morris holds the tip of the blade to my mouth, digging it in until I taste blood. He laughs, "It'd be a shame if your kisser was of no use."  
"Good thing we got our share already," Oscar winks maliciously.  
Morris raises an eyebrow, leaning in, "Or maybe we haven't." Before his mouth can touch mine, my knee harshly finds his groin. Morris yelps, backing away from me and holding his hurt area. On the ground next to him lies Race, clearly trying to get up while clutching his stomach. He looks up and his mouth contorts into some shape when he sees me pinned against the wall.  
Oscar takes his brother's place in front of me, "You little-"  
Suddenly he's thrown off of me and his head hits the brick wall. With one arm around his abdomen, Race has his other hand around Oscar's throat and he sneers, "Touch her again," his grip tightens, "and I'll kill youse." One last blow is struck to Oscar's face. He falls and I'm almost positive he's unconscious.  
Race then turns to Morris, who's slowly recovering from my hit, "Get the hell outta here before I do the same ta youse." But before Morris has a chance to move away, Race delivers a swift kick to his back, knocking him unconscious as well.  
Race grabs the blade out of Morris' hand before turning to me, "C'mon. Let's cheese it 'fore they wake up." He grabs my hand and pulls me into a run.

We don't stop until we're safely inside the Lodging House. I sit on the stairs, panting and trying to get some air. I take my cap off and in the back of my head I'm a little surprised it didn't fly off during the fight. My hair falls down and covers my face, matted down with sweat. Race sits next to me, leaning back and covering his face with one hand while the other rubs his hurt stomach.  
"What happened to youse two?" someone asks and we look up. Jack and Crutchie stand there, confused.  
"Delancey's," Race and I say at the same time.  
Jack exhales, "Figured as much." He looks carefully at the cut on my mouth and Race's growing black eye. "Youse sure got a beatin'."  
I almost laugh, "Yeah well I've had worse." Jack raises an eyebrow and Race shoots me a look.  
Crutchie, sensing the awkward moment, speaks up, "Maybe youse should put some ice on dat."  
I nod, "Take him up to the washroom," I tell Jack.

Jack puts Race's arm around his neck and helps him up the stairs. Once I'm sure they'll make it okay, I get two chunks of ice from Kloppman's ice box and wrap them each in a towel, finally heading up to the bunkroom.  
"Thanks, Cowboy," I say.  
Jack winks and heads out, "He's all yours."  
Race leans against a mirror and his eyes are shut, clearly in pain. I join him at the sinks and hand him an ice block. "Here," I say, putting it against his eye, "hold this right there. I can't promise it'll stop it but the ice will keep the swelling down."  
Race gives me a funny look, "Since when are youse a nurse?"  
"My brothers used to always get hurt when they'd run around. I'd watch our nursemaid fix them back up." I hold up the other ice block, "Take off your shirt."  
He winks before doing what I say, "I didn't know that's where this was headed."  
I lightly kick his foot, "Don't be dumb. I need to put ice on your stomach."  
"Sure, sure," he winks again before tossing his shirt to the ground. There's a large bruise on his abdomen, already swirling with different purples and yellows. I slowly place the ice on the bruise and Race hisses at the cold.  
"You're cut, too," Race says simply, observing my cut mouth.  
I shake my head, "It's nothing."  
He persists, holding out the ice that was on his face, "Take it. I got a black eye no matter what."

I sigh in defeat and let him hold the ice to my mouth while I hold the ice on his stomach, "What you did tonight was really brave."  
Race laughs, "_I_ was the brave one? What 'bout youse, eh? Jumpin' outta the alley and kickin' Mo where the sun don't shine. _That_ was brave."  
I smile a bit, "Really though."  
He waves it off, "Ah it ain't nothing. Just doin' my job."  
I raise an eyebrow, "Job as what?"  
"Just protectin' youse," he simply says and his finger traces the corner of my mouth. Race is silent for a moment before asking, "What am I to youse?"  
I glance over his face. His brow is furrowed as he watches me. I look down at the ice on his stomach, "What kind of question is that?"  
"Youse know exactly what kinda question it is." His voice goes quiet, "Everybody thinks yer my girl."  
"Am I your girl?" I ask quietly, looking him in the eye.  
"Youse tell me."  
I look down again, mumbling, "I mean... I wouldn't mind it."  
"Ace?" His free hand intertwines with mine. I look up and he smiles, "Be my girl?"  
"Thought you'd never ask," I smirk before kissing him.

* * *

**A/N: And here is my Christmas present to you all. And if you don't celebrate Christmas, then I hope you still have a wonderful holiday season. :)**

**Because I know you all care, I just wanted to say that my parents got me an early Christmas present and guess what it is?! A kitten that perfectly matches Ducky in this story! So of course I named it Ducky. ;)**

**Don't forget to review! I love when people do that! It can be my holiday present from you. :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

*Race's POV*

Ace and I stay upstairs a little while longer, icing our wounds and trying not to talk about the brawl with the Delancey's. The gash on Ace's lip is visible, but on the bright side it isn't swelling. I can feel my eye starting to puff up, though, and I know it'll hurt to open it when I wake up tomorrow. My stomach is heavily bruised, but it doesn't hurt as bad as it did, thanks to Ace's persistence on putting ice on it. She's still holding the ice to my bruise, even though most of it is all melted by now and it's basically just a wet rag now. Her brow is furrowed and she bites her lip in worry as she continues to press the ice to my stomach.

Ace senses me watching her and glances up at me, "What are you smiling about?"  
"Youse said ya'd be my girl."  
She smirks, "Keep the funny look up and I won't be around much longer."  
"What's got youse up in a knot?" I move her hands off my stomach, forcing her to look at me.  
"Nothing. It's just . . ." Ace pauses and looks away, "There's certain people I don't want to know about us." She doesn't have to say it, but I know she means the Delancey's.  
"And so what if they do? Nothin' will happen."  
"But they know I'm with you and the others. Who knows what they'd do if they found out we're together?"  
I shrug my shoulders, "We'se can protect youse. Jack'll be fine with it."  
Ace shakes her head, "No, they'd want to know why they're after me."  
"They don't hafta know what happened to protect youse." I laugh a bit, "They'd take any excuse to beat 'em."  
"And I'd help," Ace smiles, "Maybe I could find my own place. That way they couldn't come to the Lodging House."  
I raise an eyebrow, "Where would youse go?"  
She shrugs, "I'd find a small apartment or town house. Rent would be covered with my earnings from Jacobi and Medda and-"  
"Ace!" I interrupt her, "Youse can't just go off and buy a house and live on yer own." I hate telling her that; her eyes are all lit up and I can see the seed already sprouting in her head about living alone.  
She crosses her arms, "Why not?"  
"Youse is gonna hate me for sayin' this but yer a girl. Girls can't do that. It's dangerous."  
"Says who?"  
"Says everyone," I put my arms out to emphasize my point. "It just doesn't happen."  
Ace gets off the counter, "Well maybe it's time something changed." She turns on her heel and walks out of the washroom.

Ace storms down the stairs and I wait a while before following her to the recreation room. She hardly glances at me as she sits against the wall with Red. I do a double-take, _Red?_ I glance at the card table where Jack, Blink, Mush sit with Spot at the head. I raise an eyebrow. It's not often that Brooklyn visits, especially two nights in a row. I look back at Ace and Red. They're casually talking and at one point Red glances across the room. Ace follows her gaze and I do, too. Crutchie's playing marbles with Les, occasionally meeting Red's eyes. I smirk, finally piecing it together why Brooklyn is here. Ace smiles, too, turning back to Red and whispering something.

Realizing she's not giving me the time of day anytime soon, I join the card table and sit next to Jack. He notices the hardness between Ace and I and raises an eyebrow that I wave off.  
Jack laughs and gestures towards the deck of cards, "Wanna join?"  
I shake my head. The headline wasn't so good today and I don't have much to bet. He shrugs and turns to Ace behind him, "How 'bout youse?"  
She smirks, lightening up, "I'd love to if I didn't already know if smoke you. Right, Spot?"  
"How kind of the little lady," Spot says without looking up from his cards.  
Ace laughs, "Only around gentlemen like you boys."

* * *

*Ace's POV*

I turn back to Red after turning down the game. "So how many girls sell papes?"  
She shrugs, "I'm the only one in Brooklyn. Not too sure about Queens and the Bronx, so unless youse hawk, I'm the only one."  
I shake my head, "I couldn't sell a headline for my life."  
"But they still let youse stay here?"  
I nod, "I pay for my board with money from Jacobi's. And I guess Medda, too."  
Red winks, "And from your poker face."  
"That, too."  
"How'd youse get so good anyways?"  
I shrug, "Honestly I don't know. I just picked up on it after watching Mr. Delancey for so long."  
"Delancey?"  
"Worked for them a few years. Got fired after... some dumb argument." I glance at Race, the only one who knows my secret. A cigar is in his mouth as he watches the game going on. I'm over the annoyance I had before with him. Race laughs at something Mush says and it seems like whatever happened before is the farthest thing from his mind.  
Red huffs, "I hate the Delancey's. Hurtin' nice people for no good reason." She glances at Crutchie again and I know she's thinking about him in the Refuge.  
I sigh, "You can say that again."

Red lowers her voice, "Do ya think he even notices me?"  
"Who? Crutchie? Of course he does." As if he heard us, Crutchie looks up and smiles shyly. "See?"  
Red shrugs, "Yeah but... youse know what I mean."  
"Well why don't you find out?"  
"Huh?"  
"Go talk to him. Crutchie's a fighter, but girls are his weak spot."  
Red still seems unsure, but she thinks my words over. I raise my voice, "Hey Les!"  
The kid looks up from across the room, "Yeah?"  
"Come help me find Ducky. I haven't seen her all day and I've got some cold cuts from Jacobi's for her."  
Les lights up at the mention of the kitten. He turns to David, "Can I?"  
David ruffles his brother's hair, "Sure kid. Then we gotta get home."  
I turn to Red and wink, "He's all yours."

Red smiles gratefully and Les excitedly pulls me up the stairs to find Ducky. Before I'm all the way up, I look back to see Red join Crutchie and take Les' spot with the marbles. I glance at Race and notice he's watching me. I give him a smile, letting him know I'm not mad before following an impatient Les upstairs.

* * *

*Race's POV*

Almost as soon as Ace is out of the room, Jack turns to me, "What'd youse do this time?"  
I play the dumb card, "I ain't got the slightest idea what yer talkin' 'bout."  
He hits the cap off my head, "Ya know what I'm talkin' 'bout."  
"Yeah, Blondie sure was ticked at somethin'," Spot pipes in.  
"And so it's my fault?" I ask.  
"Well yeah," Jack says, "she's always gettin' irritated. And it's usually always youse."  
I shrug, "She just said somethin' 'bout findin' her own place."  
"And what's wrong with that?"  
"Let's think this through, Cowboy. A girl livin' on her own? Would youse let Sarah do that?"  
Jack shakes his head, "Sarah's got a family. Ace has been on her own for years now. She could do it."  
"Youse must be joking," I tell him.  
"All I'm sayin' is that if anyone's gonna think she can do it, it should be youse."

* * *

**A/N: Well... here ya go. I'm not entirely content with this chapter but hey, at least it's an update. Very sorry for the long wait and lack of chapters lately. It seems I've lost my muse, but I'm looking for it! I'm too invested and in love with this story to leave it hanging. I'm just taking my time making sure the chapters are quality (except this one). But I hope you like this chapter anyways and leave a review! :) Thanks!**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

*Ace's POV*

_"We'll find ya."_

My eyes fly open in an attempt to push away the nightmare. It's the same one I had the night before. I sit up in bed, careful not to knock my head against Race's bunk or shift the sleeping kitten on my feet. My hand clutches my chest in an attempt to soothe my panicking heartbeat, while my other covers my mouth. A few strands of hair are matted to my sweaty forehead. I push them away and hug myself, trying to calm down. _It's okay, Ace. You're fine. Just a dream_, I repeat to myself a few times before feeling the pounding in my chest finally slowing down to a normal rate.

I start to lay back down when a light breeze cools me down. I pause, _why is there a breeze indoors?_ I look around and see an open window. My eyebrow raises as I make my way to the window and look out; there's not much of a view with an alley and fire escape right outside the window. I glance up to the roof and am surprised when I see a silhouette. A part of my brain flickers back to my nightmare and I quickly push it away, not believing that the person is the one after me in my dream. I can just make out the slightest hint of a red bandana around the person's neck. I relax, it's just Jack.  
"Hey, Cowboy," I call quietly to him, just loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to not wake the rest of the sleeping newsboys.  
Jack glances down, "What are youse doin' up?"  
"I should ask you the same thing," I climb out onto the fire escape and join him, "Bad dream."  
"The same one from last night?"  
"Yeah. I guess you heard about that?"  
Jack nods, "Race mentioned youse bein' bugged by somethin' last night."  
"Of course he did," I look down at the alley below us, "He worries too much."  
Jack shrugs, "You're his girl. He's supposed to.  
I stick out my jaw, "I can care for myself."  
"He knows that. He just doesn't want you getting into trouble."  
"I hardly call myself a troublemaker."  
"Oh yeah?" Jack challenges, "Then tell me why the Delancey's were on yer tail tonight."

"That's a story for another time," I say simply, "Why are you up here?"  
Jack smirks but accepts the change of subject, "A guy needs fresh air sometime."  
I realize just how little I actually know about Jack, "Why didn't you go to Santa Fe?"  
He raises an eyebrow, "How'd youse know 'bout that?"  
"I read the papers."  
Jack laughs, "Almost did. But I can't just leave the guys here. Plus I got Sarah now. You know she's curious about you."  
"Me?"  
"Some girl living with a gang of guys, one she's sweet on? Yeah, she's curious."  
"Well you can tell her I'm no threat. I'm not interested in you in the slightest," I wink.  
He elbows me, "Thanks."  
I laugh, "I'd like to meet her. You should bring her around sometime."  
Jack nods, "Maybe I will."

A train whistles somewhere in the distance. Jack looks towards it and I can tell he is thinking about Santa Fe. He sighs, "We should get back inside. Seems like Kloppman's comin' earlier and earlier everyday."  
"I guess you're right," I say.  
"'Course I'm right," Jack smiles smugly, "I'm always right."  
I push him, "Don't be too sure of yourself, mister strike leader."  
We climb down the fire escape, but I stop before we're inside. "Jack?"  
"Yeah?"  
For a moment, I consider telling him about the Delancey's and me. I trust him enough to keep my secret. "Never mind," I finally decide to not tell; the less people who know, the better.

* * *

Kloppman did his usual morning wakeup call and we all got out the door smoothly, actually on time for once. We walk toward _The World_ circulation desk. Race's arm is around my shoulders and we don't talk about the argument last night. I figure it'll happen eventually, though.  
"Hey, Crutchie," I call to the boy a few steps ahead of us, "Noticed you talking with Red last night. How'd your game go?"  
He smiles brightly, "I let her win."  
"Always a gentleman," I wink. Crutchie shrugs and looks down, but it's clear there's a smile on his face. I nudge Race before asking Crutchie, "You fancy her?"  
He shrugs again, "I dunno. Maybe?"  
"Well a little bird told me that she's quite stuck on you."  
Crutchie brightens up, "Really?"  
I shrug, "Maybe."

We turn the corner onto the street where the deli is. I slow my walk and so does Race. "Good luck with the headline today," I tell him.  
He tips his hat, "Hope the rush ain't too crazy today."  
I see Jack and some others waiting on Race while the others rush ahead to the circulation desk. "You'd better hurry before they run of out papes."  
"Ace?" Race says suddenly.  
"Yeah?"  
"If youse wanna find yer own place... I'll help ya."  
My eyebrow raise, "Really?"  
He nods, "What kinda guy am I to say youse can't do what youse want?" Race laughs, "Ya'd probably do it anyways."  
I grin and hug him, "Thanks Race. But to be fair, you had good points, too."

"Hey lover boy!" Crutchie yells, "Kiss her and let's get a move on!"  
I laugh and lean towards Race. He does the same but I put a finger on his lips, "Not on the street." The newsies across street groan at the lack of any action.  
Race winks, "I'll save ya a pape."

* * *

The newsies come back to Jacobi's around two, just as the lunch rush heads out. They take their usual table in the back corner, taking their seats, talking loudly, and teasing me to hurry up and take their orders. I sigh in exhaustion and look around the deli. Not many tables are being used, the exception being the boisterous boys in the back corner. The other customers are either happily eating or paying and on their way out. Seeing that I wouldn't be needed anytime soon, I join my friends.

"Afternoon, boys," I plop down in an empty chair, pulling out a dime and turning to Race, "Got my pape?"  
Race pulls out his last World copy from his bag, "Fresh off the presses." He refuses my dime, "I ain't takin' yer money. It's on me."  
I roll my eyes and catch Jack's eye. He laughs and jumps into a selling story from today, distracting Race enough for me to slip the coin into his pocket. He'd catch it later but I wasn't about to start taking free things just because I was his girl.

I open the paper and look through the stories, "Anything interesting today?"  
"Race almost soaked Oscar and Morris today!" Skittery shouts out.  
I look up in time to see Race elbow Skittery in the chest. "You what?!"  
Race puts his hands up in defense, "Nothin' happened!"  
"Look, they was givin' Crutchie a hard time," Jack steps in, "He was just helpin' a brother out."  
Crutchie looks confused. Both Jack and Race shoot him a look to keep quiet about something. It's quick, but I still notice it.

"So Ace," Specs interrupts, "We'se heard that youse is workin' wit Medda now."  
I smile proudly, "Yes sir." A new thought comes to my head at the mention of the showgirls, "Hey Davey, can I ask a favor?"  
He nods and I continue, "The girls at Medda's are all... Well let's just say nicer looking than me. If she doesn't mind, does Sarah have any old dresses that I could borrow? Not forever, just until I can afford to buy my own."  
Davey smiles, "Sure. I'll check with her and bring whatever I can over tomorrow morning."  
Race furrows his brow, "But youse got clothes already."  
"Yeah, boy clothes. And if you haven't noticed yet, I'm not a boy. And the girl clothes I _do_ have are still at the Delancey's."  
Specs laughs, "He just likes seein' youse wear his clothes, dollface."

The table bursts into laughter at Specs' comment. Race looks like he's thinking hard about something, but before I have a chance to ask, Jacobi calls me over to finish wiping tables and to get my night's pay before leaving. As I wipe down the remaining sticky tables, I notice the newsies all huddled into the middle of the table, discussing something. Jack looks up and spots me glancing at them. He nudges Race and they all quiet down, as if nothing happened.

* * *

**A/N: I feel like I say this every time I post, but I am so so so sorry for the delayed updates. I swear I'm not doing it on purpose. Life is just waaayyy busy with school, college applications, show choir, auditions, and church stuff. But I promise you that I don't forget about this fic. I think about it everyday and how I can improve it! :)**

**Actually, I'll be honest here. A big reason why I don't update as much as I used to is because my number of reviews has been declining. It really motivates me when I get a review notification for this. Yes, a favorite or alert is nice, but I want to hear what you have to say. I hate to say this, but if I don't get more reviews, I might be that kind of author who asks for a certain number of reviews per chapter until I post a new one. I hate when people do that, but I just really want to hear what you have to say. Either that, or this goes on hiatus. I've got other story ideas I can work on, and if those get more response then maybe that's where I'll turn my devotion towards. Sorry guys, but please review. I'm begging you. If it helps, I allow anons to review! :)**

**Hope you like this one! REVIEW**.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Let me start this off by apologizing for how I left off that last chapter. I don't know what came over me. I guess I got into a kind of funk. See, I've been really busy lately and I guess I thought that if people weren't appreciating my work, then I had better things to do with my little spare time. But trust me, I will NOT be that kind of author. It's not fair to the readers who have been following this story and still are, and also to the readers I'm gaining with each chapter. I really hope I didn't scare anyone away. O.O I'm too far invested into this story and I'm not about to drop it before we're really at anything exciting. ;) Sorry once again, but I do hope my readers have considered what I had to say. I really do appreciate your reviews and I do my best to reply to them (except you anons, I don't know how to find you). Let's just make a deal that if I keep updating, you keep reviewing. Yes? Sounds good. :)**

**ALSO, this chapter is Race's POV of the last chapter. Just to fill in some bubbles of what happened with the Delancey's and the Newsies. Just clearing that up because it time skips back a bit.**

* * *

Chapter 19

*Race's POV*

"Hey lover boy!" Crutchie yells, "Kiss her and let's get a move on!"  
We both laugh and Ace shakes her head, "Not on the street." I glance at the cut on her lip from last night. It's not very deep and it'll heal easy, but the red line is noticeable, especially on her.  
I wink, "I'll save ya a pape." I run across the street, joining the rest of the gang, while Ace goes into Jacobi's.

"So Race," Crutchie speaks up on the way to _The World_, "youse gonna tell us where ya got that ugly eye?"  
I remember the hit that Morris delivered to me. There's not so much swelling, thanks to Ace's persistence on icing it, but the bruise is evident. I shrug and pull my cigar out, "Just Oscar and Morris thinkin' they can win a fight. Nothin' new."  
"Idiots," Les mumbles under his breath, "Someone's really gotta beat 'em sometime."  
"Les!" David reprimands his brother as we stand by the gates.  
"No," Jack defends the kid, "he's got a point. We'se ain't their punchin' bags."  
I laugh, "Youse should see what Ace did to them."  
David raises an eyebrow, "A girl soaked them?"  
"'Course she did. Hits like hell, she does."  
David nods, impressed, and Jack smirks, "Careful, Davey. We'se don't need lover boy talkin' sweet 'bout his girl." I fake a punch to Jack's arm and the gates open, letting us buy our papes and start the day.

I get my usual hundred papes and sit on a crate next to Jack, reading over the headlines. "Anything good so far?"  
Jack nods, "Page seven. Train wreck in Jersey." But before I can see the story, someone snatches the pape out of Jack's hand and crumbles it to the ground. We look up to see Oscar and Morris standing above us. "Youse gonna pay for that?" Jack asks.  
Morris smirks and cocks his head, "You gonna hit me or something?"  
"Maybe if we're lucky, Morris, he'll hit better than the wuss next to him," Oscar adds in, nudging his brother and pointing to me.  
I laugh, "_I'm_ not the one sportin' a lost tooth and a pair of cracked nuts. Did I mention it was a girl who did that?"  
Oscar sneers, "If you had any brain, youse'd shut the hell up before real damage was done."  
I stand up, "And let's say I don't have a brain. What happens then?"  
Morris squints, "We do to you the same thing we did to her."  
My papes drop to the ground as I tackle Morris. Oscar lunges towards me, but Jack pulls him back. Morris and I struggle, rolling across the pavement and sending papes everywhere. I pin him down with one hand and hold the other in a fist above his face. A new thought hits me and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the pocketknife I pulled from them last night.  
Morris raises an eyebrow, "You ain't got the guts to use that."  
I flip the blade out of the shaft, "Maybe not right now. But don't think for one second that I wouldn't use this against scabs like youse two."  
"Is that a threat?" he challenges.  
I lightly touch the tip of the blade to his lip, mimicking his move on Ace last night, "Youse tell me."

"Alright, alright!" Weasel yells from behind _The World_ window, "Beat it, you kids!"  
Morris throws me off of him, but I quickly stand up and prep for an attack. He crosses his arms, "You got lucky this time, Higgins."  
Oscar wiggles out of Jack's grip and joins his brother, "We won't be easy on you next time."  
"Can't wait," I say through my teeth. Jack and I watch them go back inside, finally picking up our papes and heading out onto the street.  
"Damn," Jack laughs, "Ace is gonna kick yer ass if she gets wind of this."  
"Yeah well she won't hear a word. You ain't tellin' no one, and I ain't tellin' no one."  
"Youse know as good as I do that Brooklyn probably knows this already," Jack says matter-of-factly.

* * *

Sheepshead treats me well, especially with a headline about a crazy woman thinking she can fly off the Brooklyn Bridge. With one pape left for Ace, I hop a trolley and head back to Manhattan. The hour-long rides lets me relax and think.  
The day is warm with a slight breeze, just the usual autumn in New York. I pause, _We're already at autumn?_ That means winter is around the corner. I make a mental note to find my coat from last year before someone else does. Maybe the nuns will hold another coat drive for the orphans this year. We always get the first pick of the clothes they bring since we work outside all day, everyday. _That's usually around Christmas time._ I'll need some kind of cover before then. The cold usually hits in early November. And it's already late September.

The trolley stops and calls out my street. I jump off and head inside Jacobi's. Ace is working still, but there's hardly anyone in the deli, minus the four tables being used by the newsboys who beat me here. Ace looks up at the door jingling when I open it. I wave and she holds up one finger saying she'll join us in a bit. For a second I think back to Christmas. If I'm going to get her something, I'd better start saving now.

Ace walks over to our table in almost no time and sits down next to me, "Got my pape?"  
I nod and pull my last pape out of my bag. "Fresh off the presses." I notice the dime she holds out and hand her the pape without accepting the money. "I ain't takin' yer money. It's on me."  
Jack suddenly launches into a story about today where a guy challenged him to an arm wrestling match. If the guy one, he'd get a free pape and if Jack won, the man would buy two papers. Jack won, obviously.  
Ace laughs and scans through the pape, "Anything else interesting happen today?"  
"Race almost soaked Oscar and Morris!" Skittery blurts out and i elbow him in the chest.  
Ace's jaw drops, "You what?!"  
I hold my hands up in defense, "Nothin' happened!"  
"Look, they was givin' Crutchie a hard time," Jack steps in, "He was just helpin' a brother out." Ace shakes her head in disbelief. Crutchie looks confused and both Jack and I wave it off to play along.

"So Ace," Specs interrupts, "We'se heard that youse is workin' wit Medda now."  
Ace smiles, "Yes sir." She quickly turns to David at the other side of the table, "Hey Davey, can I ask a favor?"  
He shrugs, nodding, and she continues, "The girls at Medda's are all... Well let's just say nicer looking than me. If she doesn't mind, does Sarah have any old dresses that I could borrow? Not forever, just until I can afford to buy my own."  
Davey smiles, "Sure. I'll check with her and bring whatever I can over tomorrow morning."  
I knit my eyebrows together, "But youse got clothes already."  
"Yeah, boy clothes," Ace says, "And if you haven't noticed yet, I'm not a boy. And the girl clothes I _do_ have are still at the Delancey's."  
Specs laughs, "He just likes seein' youse wear his clothes, dollface."

Everyone laughs except me. I'm too busy thinking about what Ace said. _Back at the Delancey's?_ Jacobi suddenly calls Ace to finish up work and as soon as she's gone, I motion the guys in.  
"First thing's first, no one is allowed to repeat what I'm 'bout to say to no body, 'specially Ace." I make sure to level eyes with everyone before spitting in my hand and holding it out. Everyone does the same and our hands all meet in a spitty handshake. "Okay. Youse heard her. She ain't got her clothes and I can tell she wants 'em back, same with all her other stuff."  
David raises an eyebrow, "Well I mean I'm asking Sarah if she has anything Ace could borrow."  
"And what if Sarah says no? Or they're different sizes?" I ask him and he shuts up. "So I'm gonna get her stuff back."  
Jack looks amused, "So youse is gonna try and get into the Delancey house? Youse got some balls, Race."  
I nod confidently, "It'll take some plannin' but I can't do it alone."  
The other guys all nod excitedly for the new mission. Jack glances over at Ace and nudges me, "If this is a secret, youse better shut up. She's lookin'."

* * *

**A/N: Finally got this written! Sorry for the delay. I've been loaded down lately, especially with show choir. But on the bright side we won Grand Champs at our first competition yesterday! Yay!**

**Don't forget to review please! :)**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

*Ace's POV*

A few days pass by and there isn't much discussion about what exactly Race was telling the boys back at Jacobi's. I know it's a secret from the way they all ignore my questions or simply change the subject whenever I bring it up. Race is the worst of the lot though- he simply shrugs and turns away, but not before I always see him smile discreetly.  
Fortunately, I find ways of distracting myself. Medda keeps me busy with rehearsals. I haven't had my first show yet, but Medda and the Beauties continue to entertain on the weekends. I sit in the audience and watch, mentally going over my parts. Medda says my "time is coming," so I want to be as prepared as possible.

I walk myself to Irving Hall after my morning shift at Jacobi's, which ended before the newsies had a chance to come in. I'm not complaining though; it's nice to be on my own for at least a few blocks. Because it isn't a show day, I go through the backdoor to get inside the theatre. Already I can hear the crew moving sets, sewing machines buzzing as costumes are stitched up, and of course Medda practicing her set onstage. We used to start off rehearsal with the Bowery Beauties but since I always manage to show up late, Medda starts things now. I enter as quietly as possible and sit next to Anna, one of the other showgirls. She laughs a bit at my late entrance and I dismiss it with a wave of my hand. The other two showgirls, Camille and Nancy, stand in the back of the house, marking choreography.

"Ah, Ace, how nice of you to join us," Medda says when she's finished with her piece. She smiles and winks, so I know she isn't upset that I'm late.  
I shrug, "Here I am. You sounded lovely."  
Medda smiles again and waves it off, "I need you to stay after when we're done. Just for a little bit." She calls the rest of the showgirls and me up to the stage to practice our number. I can't help but feel a little nervous as to what Medda needs me for, but I push that to the back of my head to focus on the Beauties.

* * *

"First things first," Medda says after rehearsal. Nancy, Camille, and Anna are slowly leaving, obviously curious what Medda has to say to me. Medda continues, "I need your name for the program. I kept forgetting to get it from you and now that we're getting close to show time, I need them printed as soon as possible."  
I raise an eyebrow, "You already know my name..."  
"No, no, dear," Medda laughs, "Your real name. Not something the newsies came up with."  
"Oh," I pause, not because I forget my real name but because it's weird coming off my lips after such a long time, "Addie Bunker." Medda nods and writes it down on a pad of paper. The casual chatter from the showgirls stops and the three look at me. "What?" I ask.  
"_Bunker_?" Anna asks.  
"Yes..." I drag the word out. _There's no way they know my family._  
Camille steps up, "Like the Bunker family in Yonkers?" _Okay well maybe they do._  
I sigh, "That's the one."  
The three girls look at each other, clearly impressed. Nancy smiles in disbelief, "I never would have guessed."  
I laugh humorlessly, "Neither would I." I turn to Medda, "What else?"  
She smiles, glad to get back on track, "One more thing. But just between us two."

Nancy, Camille and Anna get the hint and quickly leave Medda and me alone. I'm relieved for the privacy after the recent subject. "Medda?"  
"Yes, dear?"  
"What did you mean by 'getting close to show time'? How close is close?"  
She smiles, "That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you. There's a little piece of the show missing and I feel as if you're the one who can fix it."  
"What do you mean?"  
Medda grabs a few papers off the piano and hands them to me, "How long will it take you to learn a song?"  
I shrug and examine the music, "Not long, I suppose. The others would help me, too."  
Medda shakes her head, "It's not a chorus song. It's a solo."  
My head snaps up, "_What_?"  
"I love this song, but I can't do it. It's too young for me. I've asked the other girls individually, but none of them can sing it the way I think it ought to be sung."  
I shake my head quickly, "I couldn't."  
"Why not?" Medda puts her hands on her hips, "You seem like a smart girl who could do something with it. Just sing it through one time?"  
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, "One time."  
Medda squeals excitedly and hurries us over to the piano. It's a ragtime piece but still fit for the vaudeville stage, packed with plenty of innuendos. The last few notes are high on the scale but meant to be sung as a belt, to which I do my best. Medda hits the ending chord and turns to me with a smile on her face, "You've got it."

Someone claps behind us and we turn to see Race. He's standing in the wings and grins, "Sounded great."  
Medda stands from the piano, "She's a star." She hands me the sheet music, "Two weeks till your debut. We'll work on it more next time." She turns to Race, "Good to see you again, kid. Don't keep her too occupied." Medda winks and heads out.  
I stare at the song in front of me, "Did that... just happen?"  
"I'm a witness," Race smirks, putting his cigar between his lips.  
"I have a solo..." My face breaks into a grin from ear to ear, "I have a solo!"  
Race copies my grin, "Youse have a solo!"  
I shake my head, "Pinch me. This isn't real."  
"I ain't pinchin' youse. I'll kiss youse, but I ain't doin' no pinchin'," he winks.  
I roll my eyes, "When'd you get here?"  
"Few minutes ago," Race gestures to the back door, "Girls let me inside. Got a gift for youse."  
"Really?"  
He nods and walks over to the piano, removing the messenger bag from around his shoulders, "Davey came by with some of Sarah's clothes, but youse left Jacobi's before I had a chance to give it to youse."  
I snatch the bag out of his hands and excitedly look through the contents, "This just keeps getting better!"  
"Well then let's head back to the House to celebrate with everyone?" Race suggests.  
I nod, "I'm gonna change, then we can go. You stay here."

I quickly head off to the dressing room with the bag of clothes in tow. There's plenty of blouses, skirts, and dresses to choose from, but I grab a simple white button-up and navy blue skirt and change quickly. Sarah and I are surprisingly the same size so they fit me well. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, smoothing down a few wrinkles and fiddling with my hair. I smile at myself; it's nice to look like a girl."  
"Knock knock," Race peeks his head through the dressing room door. One hand covers his eyes, "Youse all dressed?"  
"Yeah," I tell him without turning from the mirror.  
He uncovered his eyes and looks me up and down, smiling, "Lookin' good."  
I sigh, "Thanks."  
An eyebrow raises and he walks over to me, "Youse okay?"  
"Yeah. It's just... weird."  
"What's weird? I think youse look fine."  
"Not that. It's weird because these aren't my clothes."  
Race purses his lips and rolls the cigar between his index finger and thumb, "Would youse ever want those back?"  
I shrug, "I guess it'd be nice. But it's all at the Delancey's and there's no way in hell I'm going back there."  
He laughs, "I like when youse swear."  
"Then maybe I should do that more often," I say to him, finally deciding on pinning half my hair back with my barrette- my usual style.  
Race makes a face, "Nah, doesn't suit a lady like youse."  
I laugh, "I hardly call myself a lady."  
"Well youse definitely ain't a boy, especially not in those clothes."  
"You're quite the charmer today," I tell him. "Shall we go?"  
Race nods and puts his arm around my shoulders as we head out, "And maybe this time we won't have to soak those Delancey's."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like this one! I just finished my spring break and I fortunately got a lot of writing done, so be prepared for lots of updates after I edit it a bit. :) Just wanted to say that for my spring break I went to New York City with my best friend (who also loooooves Newsies) and we saw the show! Let me just say- it's incredible! I highly recommend it. :) I could go on and on about my time in New York, but I'll save you the trouble. :)**

**REVIEW!**


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